Budding, glowing bulbs. They are shedding their stemmed leaves, blown away and bound by nothing. They are eating themselves alive from the outside in. They are missing the train by mere minutes.
Then October came along with its spindle-like skin, weaving wool and silk through the fibers of her fragile life, being. She is nylon, polyester, a poorly written trope. She is not bound, not made by the earth.
I'm getting married in October. I'm going to get married October 3rd, 2020. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to walk down the aisle in a white gown I picked. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to walk myself because I'm not an object to be "handed off". I'm getting married in October. I'm going to get closer and closer but yet it feels so far away. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to see eyes on me I only wished would have given me that much attention growing up. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to vow to the man I love that I will "always be with You". I'm getting married in October. I'm going to cry because life feels like its moving so fast yet the moment's pass so slow. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to pray that people care enough to come. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to hope his family accepts me without a second thought. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to convince myself that "I'm strong enough" to hold it together. I'm getting married in October. I'm going to marry the man I love and want to spend the rest of my life with. I'm getting married in October. "I'm going to be his wife." I'm getting married in October. I'm getting married.
I braced myself for the impact of what the blow would be. Kissing the sleep out of you on that cloudy Saturday morning keeps on running through my mind like the memories are water swirling in a whirlpool, they keep going and going before my eyes and I can't shut it out to sleep. You- God kissing you, feeling one of your arms go under my neck and the other around my waist made me feel like all the harsh silences and sad facts became irrelevant and all that mattered was the way you kissed me by the piano and the way you pulled my body towards you this morning. I'm preparing myself for the blow of you leaving and I don't want to.
we used the right words at the wrong time we were kids, tired of our hometown cranking the heater and writing poetry with our hands in the humidity on your sunroof you'd kiss my fingers and talk about us another us, far from here where we had already spent mornings in bed that faded into quiet afternoons I told you I'd miss you and we left the spaces between us as some kind of divine obliteration I'm forgetting the taste of october and you are learning how to brave the chill of december without the warmth of me
I'm needing to leave, But because of you, I'm glued to my feet. Unable to walk away. Stuck in my tracks. The sight of you was unbearable to breathe. I once shared another life with you. An intuition of recognition is what I perceive. I'm missing your skin, like a feather misses the wind. Carrying my soul from place to place all in a spin, without destination or control never to waste again. Everything came so naturally, Wild and free. There isn't one thing that I'll miss but of everything. Remember when I once said this, followed by a kiss. Forever yours I intend, but that's when the storms rolled in. Just like that, the start was an end. Without no inbetween. Short time, losted friend. Missing you over and over, again and again
I had a different name It was "Undiscovered" Now this name, no longer my cover There's a darker truth as to why it's updated to "October" Tears of joy, tears of sadness They all share this amber month of blackness A deep history of sight The pain and origin of why I write
Her name was Erin She was beautiful She was young Erin, was special and Rhett's, without doubt, the devil The disease rendered her without brain function Resulted in physical mutation Erin, had an expiration The day came In the same month born She would, from this life, be torn
There was something of October that reminded me to make sure you were still there. In the morning when I woke I rolled to your side to see you breathing softly and slowly like a babies first good nights rest. Something about last October reminded me of when he left without a warning or a note that I could crumple up and burn in a fire full of depression and self doubt. I curled up in the armchair facing you just watching you stay and promise to never let go. I wanted my old lover to be that way too, I wanted him to walk on fall leaves and sip cinnamon tea as the nights grew longer as time went. I wished upon a lonely star that he would be just like you but all the hoping turned into sorrow for nothing but his shoe prints were left upon the bottom stair and a string of his curly hair on my rain jacket.