Writer1326

I yearn to see this life as a painting.

I want to see the colors that are mixed in, 

The colors I have not yet seen,

The colors that would spiral into blackness,

1; We are born into this love, 

this idea of love. 

It is what begins to form us, 

much like spring 

with budding leaves ...

And just like the moon 

we gotta go through phases to of hurt 

to feel fulfilled again. 

In the prior Autumn, the air smelled of leaf carcasses
and her abundant unused potential.
In efforts to cope she wrote of downpours,
breakup boots, and predicted wasted experiences.
She rebelled against her own sense of self, yet

as fall starts rolling in

and summer slows to a stop

i like to imagine many things, 

everything, nonstop

i imagine the sweet, sweet song of hooting owls after dark

Walking from the end line of summer 

Into the cool, pumpkin, damp filled air 

to which is called fall 

The beautiful sound of leafs crumpling 

fall fall fall 

oh how so near you are!!