to trees that feel like autumn all year round

by 02:24 0 comments
to trees that feel like autumn all year round; 
some days, I feel like half a metaphor, 
and half a sentence on others, 
All that I am reminds me of 
all that I couldn’t be.
It’s going to be okay, 
I play the same song 
over and over again, 
wishing I could go back 
to the first time I ever heard it, 
when the tunes felt alien to my skin, 
and the words to my lips, 
I whisper that It’s going to be okay, 
and again
and again, 
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince anymore? 
the last time, the stars lied about it being okay, 
the constellations broke down, 
the skies hid, 
the sun rolled over, 
the moon refused to come out 
and the universe died a little. 

I’ve never been more crescent 
than on days that are too much autumn for me. 
I carve out your name in wood that doesn’t decay, 
I’m sorry if you feel that your name wouldn’t last there forever, 
I’m tired of apologising for words I never said
some days, the words I never said become me, 
and every word I’ve ever wanted to say falls off my tongue, 
but in the wrong order, 
I say what I want to say, 
but no one ever hears me, 
blue curtains, 
yellow leaves, 
wind chimes, 
and I question myself 
over why my heart forgets to beat, 
the wind feels too rough, 
the days too empty, 
the skies too blue, 
the nights too lonely. 
I run a little, 
I’ll get there

_some trees are too much autumn to be spring.

National Poetry Writing Month, Day 4.

(dedicated to my friend, who’s a tree and turns 20 today!)


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