swimspotter

I wake up in a world that’s always moving, 

a second away from breaking. 
I scroll through the noise, 

and I wonder what happens when the screen goes dark. 

You say you want to see fall from my perspective, 
and I laugh, thinking of every maple tree 
I’ve leaned against, 
hands stained by apples split open, 
the cider I’ve spilled on my sleeves. 

You stumbled into my life like fall,
the way the air sharpens,
the first breath caught in my lungs,
catching me off guard,
an ache I didn’t know I missed.

It begins like fire on the horizon, 
a blaze of orange and crimson, 
leaves spiraling down like lost memories, 
the wind’s sharp bite weaving through. 

While numbing what I couldn’t face,
bringing out the worst in me,
anger, sharp words,
splinters of a man I barely knew,
I watched as it taught you to fear me,
but it didn’t have to be that way.