autumn

clock is ticking.
piano is being played downstairs. a waltz.
sister is practicing.
chopping of vegetables in kitchen. faucets turned on/off.
mother is cooking.
sun is shining, trying to break in through the windows.
autumn is the season when i feel most like myself.
there’s places in the world where summer lasts forever.
autumn countries are non existent.
autumn is like romance
painfully beautiful
always so fresh, so new, so exciting
but like romance
it eventually fades away.
until it becomes an itch.
somewhere you can’t quite reach.
and when the itch is gone,
you long for it again
to feel that yearning.
just to miss someone.
and have someone who misses you.