I remember it was October when
you told me you loved me.
You wrapped it in a parcel,
and
sent your message
via post.
I didn’t mean to
boast, but I loved you
too.
Autumn was your favourite month,
or so you told me,
but I guess it was all
lies.
Such a disguise that no one
could rip it off.
It stuck to you like
glue,
and I was like something
you couldn’t get off
your shoe.
I just wanted your love.
And I’m sorry I wasn’t
the best,
but I just needed rest
because you exhausted
me.
I tried to hold up
the sky so you could
find your way
home.
I tried to guide
you back to where you
belonged.
But you longed for
something you could grasp,
something you could hold,
and then mould
into your own.
I didn’t mean to fall
so hard,
but I guess I tripped
down that path.
Autumn used to be my
favourite time of year,
but now I fear
the leaves will turn
into ash,
and everything I love
will disappear.
You said Autumn was time
for change,
and I guess you were
right,
thought I wish you weren’t.