Literature
Untold
The leaves falling reminding you of a delicate number in an ever evolving ballet the twirls as they slowly descend cascading onto the others The blooming oranges and reds, making the world appear as if a slow burn has settled similar to the one that has settled in your chest, that simple ache ocasional chirps from birdsthat dared to stay as the year threatens their home with the abrupt loneliness that winter inevitably brings, The calm forgotten as you let your as you let your mind be stolen by the many terrifyingly beautiful wonders of your world. A world where I simply should not be, my skin touching the bits of it that dared to dance a bit to closely fluttering across my soul as the tar from inside my heart spreads to your reds, would it be okay, would you still like the sick wonders? Even as their colors fade to the negative blues and greys that somehow swallowed me whole
