The crisp sounds
of the trail
the pure nature
the peace of it all
yet
A headache that was too much to bare
made my nose drip blood
and taint some purified leafs
Guilt began to strangle me
I picked up the two stained leafs
the leafs illuminated the color red
against its dark brown canvas
my nose was still bleeding
The crisp sounds were shuttering about
I fall to my knees
with the leafs in hand
I look up to the branched covered sky
and think
Guilt
the feeling tightens around my neck
and my wrists
making me let go of the leafs
the pressure in my skull made the blood from my nose spew
the constriction grew stronger
and stronger
as I fall to my side
and grasp for one last breathe
i think
Guilt

I had tried to cover it with* ink,  but it only
lasted a day before it bled from my fingernails.
It was a constant reminder that death  was
Inching closer with every month that past.
The ink veined upwards like poison ivy it
Slithered, each month passing another leaf
Grew and I knew it would soon come to pass.

It changed depending on mood, when you
Were younger you'd of  thought it magical.
Each new leaf budding and then it opened a
Colourful show for younger minds. Like a mark
Of maturity but that was so long ago. Now it
Inches above the elbow, shoulder, smiles melted
Away to how many more leafs before the fall.

Once it has ascended the flower blood red
Would unfold over your heart. Some so few
Petals, no time was assured. Then the falling
Would start. How many petals would turn  onyx, 
Culminating in thoughts of life that had many
Leafs but now the blossom was ebbing away to a 
finite culmination of time. Tears fell, so many cried.

Watching others when that mortality was arching
Towards oblivion, some were at peace making the
Most of fading petals. Then there were the fallen
Timers, succumbing into limbos insanity. Who could
Blame them in their consumed thoughts, they were
Screaming wildly in the streets, others tried to
Cleaver the flower from their being, crimson fell.

My time was so complex, when the flowers eclipse
Was passing where colour became grey, Dark thoughts
Ensued but I knew that nothing would pass except
My moments of what was left. So I regained my composure
I would not be a fallen I would not be consumed
By the decaying flower upon my chest, I had time left
And I would savour the moments that fell dark.

I lay their family were overjoyed that this time was
Not spent alone, consumed in denied misgivings.
But that I wanted them all here when the flowers final
Moments etched to a lovely shaded flower that was
My final exhalation of life. I could feel it, I felt the
Fragrance fade in that final moment I breathed deeply
Taking in the essence of every moments aroma.

I died, but I past away proud that the ink may have
Started at birth and that the leafs were a monument
To my time. But in the falling I was at peace with my
Flowers blossom and its enviable fading demise.

"We are each a leaf that has a grown,
**"But life is a journey and one day that leaf falls,

The false Autumn when the leafs shed
like your sleeveless bridal gown,
in a cooler than expected September
that gave you goose bumps
and I imagined like a rumour
you had a tattoo of some past love.
For when I said I do
the past should be a spent,
bereft of decayed leafs and longings.
We have our own pinnacle to the stars,
an unspoken trust
and no false reasons
to be other than who we are.