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AE Oct 2023
With a voice that fails me
I aim at the lines between your hope and my despair
With a needle, in an effort to achieve precision
To stitch our thoughts together
They’re so similar, so different
You think of October as a warm home
And I see it as a cold houseguest
And we co-exist in this oblivion
This circle of this or that
I admire your willingness to fill spaces
And you question my fear of being heard
You relish in the colours of fall
And I dread the looming winter
How is it that we left September
Hand-in-hand, wishing for rain...
When the weather changes
and it's finally September
I feel in love.
When the breeze is cool
everything is better
I feel in love.
When I can wear a beret or
don a favorite coat
I feel in love.
& when I sit down and read
something that you wrote
I feel in love
AE Jul 2023
"A melancholy grows, and it's swathed in nostalgia.”

"Why is that?"

"With every day that rains, it is September again... the month of endings.”

"Or new beginnings."
witching hour Sep 2022
my feelings are the splattered inks
bold, italics
threatening to spill
weighing on every meaning
words could carry
scrambled up, juggled
those who’ve yet to feel
shall not speak
and pray tell, words
do you realize what you amount to?
what’s behind was for a reason, a person
clear as day, solid reverie
what lies beneath shan’t remain between the lines
and if it reaches you, we’re alike
sept. 26
Anastasia Sep 2022
Your birthday is soon
The air is ashen
Scented with burning leaves
I ride this shaking yellow chariot without you
Passing yellow-green crops and empty ditches
It’s rather lonely, really
You’ve finally gotten a car
Though you don’t like it all too well
It’s old and used
But there's no need to worry
It will take you where you need to go
Your birthday is soon
You’ll be an adult
If you could truly call eighteen years an adult
But I’m proud of you
You’ve grown so much
Even taller than me, now
Maybe someday, you’ll love yourself as much as I love you
I wish I could do the same for myself
Soon, it will be my birthday as well
I’ll be an adult
But you know I’m still a child
Small inside and immature
Thinking about the childhood ripped away from you
Of laughter and joyous grins
The large hands of a father that gently grip little fingers
The one we both deserved
Your birthday is soon
And we’re almost off to college
And though you don’t believe you have a future
I know you do
With your graphite-stained palms
You manifest entirely new worlds
I find it beautiful
And you take yourself for granted
Your birthday is soon
And as I write these words
This terrible jostling machine slows to a stop
Peeling my body from navy leather seats
I dig out my keys
I will head home
Just like I always have
September 2nd, 2022
Blue Butterflies Sep 2022
Slowly fall
The teardrops of the rain,
Slowly into the lake.
Slowly comes September,
As always,
Slowly clasping its hands around us.
Slowly the trees transform
Into ghosts,
Slowly the apples fall and rot,
And the pumpkins, slowly too,
Grow and mature.

Autumn comes slowly.
We feel it in the
Nights and in the wind
Growing colder and colder.
Slowly summer came and left.
And now,
We are left with what
We always had,
Not much:
Two warm hearts
Holding each other,
Two minds content
With time well spent,
Despite the changing times,
Despite September.
fray narte Sep 2022
My throat is heavy with August’s sorrows
I sit by the shore and wait for the weakest waves
to drown my little feet — I  stagger over them like a clumsy giant.
But it’s seaborne sadness wraps, a constant, unrelenting embrace
like a mother’s grief,
a gentle creature’s death,
a rabid dog feasting on a poor, meatless bone.
I am alive — so cruelly alive for it all
as it falls

down my throat, down my chest like a child’s pained whisper.
My body is heavy with August’s weight as I retire to my filthy bed
and hold myself.

Cold are the nights in their quiet,
lackadaisical, taunting hours.

Come now, September. Come, kindly, if you please;
sweep me away into a million, invisible dust particles

under clueless, flickering lights.
jaden Nov 2021
i’m unplugging the month old box fan for the first time since i moved in
september 22nd the first day of fall and im excited i was made for the slight breeze of the morning and the warmth right before the setting sun
but like i said i’m unplugging the month old box fan since i took it out of its box when i moved into mine
august 29th a midwestern summers peak when i truck back into the alley of a save a lot and the empty room i moved into
it doesn’t really matter though cause it’s two in the morning of the morning after i shoved the first box fan i ever bought myself under the last bed my mother would ever force upon me and i’m getting upset about the rate at which the world keeps turning
so maybe i’m sad because i haven’t seen my friends since i saw my broken box fan i had for four high school summers and didn’t have to purchase with my own barista money and i miss the way we’d understand the nonsense and sit too close together
but it doesn’t matter cause yesterday way september 22nd. the first day of fall and i was excited and i am excited because i’m unplugging that month old box fan that drowns the quiet in an empty room alone at 2 in the morning
Andrew Oct 2021
Couple together,
walking in the rain - pretty;
I walk with myself
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