PILLOW

OCTOBER

it's that time of the year where summer gives way, snaps like decaying wood to bring you fall.

only for fall to slip into an icy biting winter.

it's that time of year where your thoughts seem so much louder under weather without water weighing it down or heat to complain about, it's only you and maybe wind or this air that might as well not exist, like you it's there but it's not.

it's not hot and bright anymore like summer used to be, and your skin is recovering from the humidity and heat, turning orange or brown or gray like the leaves that fall fast to run away from the sky.

you're shriveled up and dry, just like those leaves and all you want to do is nothing and then sleep and then dream of winter flying by quicker than the thought of a summer day.

you never liked white everywhere, cooling the roads down in a majestic and stunning despair. of staring at four walls, because it's difficult to go anywhere, you never liked that because now you have to sit down with your thoughts, and yourself... introvert my ass.

it's October and everything is turning, turning, turning, while your heart still has hope that your yearning will somehow cause autumn to fall back into summer.

it's dumb to dream about things that will never be but still, you watch those old memories as if you can slip back into your skin when you were in the Dominican Republic.

in October, islands aren't real, even when the plane's route is straight to the Caribbean. it's only a dream.

and then you think that soft, warm dough, the existential craving for sugar could help you forget how sad it is in your heart. because a beignet would make you feel better about the dark nights and bright mornings.

hello, old friend, it's seasonal depression again.