Mist hangs in the air like words left unspoken
Drifting through my mind as I walk alone
4 feet have turned to two
As I always knew
They would
My hand in my pocket instead of in yours
Watching as the greens become
Yellows and oranges
Flames
Falling to the ground to burn the memories
Of seasons past
The drops of summer rain
Once fell upon our lips
Now the crisp autumn wind
Bites the hand that you loved to kiss
When you were mine
When I was yours
Now I am my own lost soul
Because your recipe for the future
Didn’t call for the girl of your summer
And so I weave you out of my story
For pages must be turned
And our days will be mere sentences
In the volumes of my existence
And your name will no longer stain
The pages of my fairytale
Will no longer poison my tongue
My lips
My kiss
As I tread my final step
On the path out of
Our tragedy
