autumn leaves

by 05:23 0 comments
If sadness were a colour, I'd call it autumn leaves.

How empty can you really feel until you realise that you are?
Stop rambling, my darling, I wish we could paint our footsteps on the walls.

you're too angry. I know. The skies too often show the colours of your heart.

And I'm awake a lot of nights, not too sure why I am.

I think I've just always loved the sound of those airplanes flying overhead, it's the sound of escape. And maybe that's why I probably never recognised it on my own until you came along.
I know you do not like your voice too much and I know it gets tiring when the sun comes up and you feel you've hung your breath out to dry. But darling, this isn't the alphabet, you can't sketch it down your spine. It's not that fire that drowns you, you can't breathe it alive.

you're not burnt my darling, if you keep picking up your ashes and building home.
you aren't lost until you stop mapping directions and start drawing your own.

I just wish you'd listen to those planes flying above and hear what I do.

Numb isn't really a feeling.
But when you feel too much over, and over, and over again, you decide not to.

Sometimes I wonder if I don't notice the cracks in the walls and the rust on the railing, would I be safer?

One day I hope you'll understand that I'm not walking alone when my feet are tied together.
And when you do, I hope you decide to stay a little longer too.

_paper planes that sound like freedom.


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