the truth about autumn is that it makes you really,
nostalgic for the things that are no longer yours,
and you just really, really wish that summer wasn't some type of old friend;
even the worst memories from august seem like nothing,
compared to the cold that's beginning to embrace your
dry skin and chapped lips.
autumn is an ephemeral phase with pretty colors on a dirty canvas-
it's like the smell of coffee on rainy mornings, and wearing thick sweaters,
and nothing underneath.
-
 it makes me miss you, a lot,
even though i've decided to let you go- for real this time- too.
i  always had/have these lingering feelings, and this reverence for you,
because you never hurt me- things never ended.
we never talked. i just watched, and sometimes, i waited.
it's not that i'm  no longer naive, and i don't blame you at all,
but it's time for me to do the "moving on,"
because i know you have so many times  without me.