an August rich with wanting
in September my leaves changed colors
and I fell into madness.

You take flights on paper planes
on September nights to escape the rain
love sits beside you
and so does pain  
in their hands, feelings from June
and they sit there waiting  
to take you to the moon

the dusk wastes its pity on me. in its muted retiring lights, i have learned a terrible habit of forcing poems out of my mouth,
when maybe all i wanna do is be as quiet as the wounds nesting inside my head.

September leaves rustled in the glades of my mind,
I saw them dancing golden since August and July.

They shone gently in the tone of your eyes - russet-chestnut and striking hazel;
I still couldn't name how they struck me like a sharp blade - cruel and fatal.

And I saw your ghost lingering
in the corn fields of this autumnal dream.
You as blue aciano, me as red poppy,
complementing our floral color scheme.

A person like you doesen't even exist
and yet I am writing this.
Summer died long ago
but we were meant for the fall with the aching of the cold wind's blow.

© fey (19/09/21)

i wanna fall in love in october
so we can have a song written by girl in red
and pretend it was for us

but i'm falling and you're not

the problem with me is that I don't stop thinking
I am always at a loss for words, but when i'm faced with you
it feels like I have been waiting to speak with you my whole life.

the emotion that binds me
to the thoughts of wondering faces and misconceptions
I have stored, I can't face them all alone

But those soft dainty hands he lays on my cheek
like a whispering gust of wind

I feel him everyday

every day is a day I morn for him
but when the mind is filled with nothing but his lips
I feel founded by the memories

why do I within many of my dreams seem to lock doors
that refuse to remain shut?
  
why must one follower always wither in a dream
why must old friends appear as Judas Iscariot
as tear drops falling down from their faces as rain

I once thought that I understood beauty
yet I could never comprehend it fully
the beauty in this world is only a shadow of things
that I have never seen

when I look into your face
all I can see is beauty my old friend
but as i close my eyes and daydream
all I can see is one follower
withered to an unappealing
dust in my cold brown hands
this triggers me to relax
in the end
a fall breeze will blow it all way
i once looked into blue eyes
i once stared into the atmosphere of fall

yet reflections of my life
will bring me back to old times