One day I fell from the sky
I survived
I did not die.
But when asked who I was
I responded "I'm a Angel"
It was a lie.

What's sad is that I've lived a million different lives in my head
a million lives that all included us

And the one life I have to live exists independently of any remnant of we.

Octobre venira, et il trouvera
Nous ensemble,
Perdue dans la brume blanche.
Je tiendra ta main
Nous nous reposerons dans les feuilles
Y aura partout.
Nous croiserons le soir, et
Je t'offrirai ma cœur et tu la prendras.
Nous tiendrons la lune d'Octobre et
Nous volerons part ****.


October will come, and he will find
Us together,
Lost in the white mist.
I will take your hand
We will lie in the leaves
That are everywhere.
We will walk in the evening, and
I will offer you my heart and you will take it.
We will hold onto the October moon and
We will fly far away.

The steel shovel bites through cold dust,
Rain dripping softly into
A pit of despair
Surrounded by a sea of black coats.
Red roses drop gently down into
The half-inch of mud at the bottom,
Onto the wooden box that looks warm
Even in the October wind,
Containing all the memories of a lifetime.
A small girl crouches by the
Grave
Of her father,
Too young to sense the
Space left by a life.

The dull leaves
cry and crackle as
the sharp winds strains
their stalks.

They flutter through
the wayward wood
like the ever searching cuckoos.

Ochre, the sad oak gleams, barer
in the morning rays.

Diamond frost melts once more
into the crisp leaves which,
from crunchy embers, soften
as they drench

Satin turns to pumpkin
and mahogany
as melancholic
November approaches.