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.