You, my love, are the cold breeze
that blows against my skin at autumn.
Even when I knew
that my leaves are in danger,
I couldn't keep you from coming and
I couldn't keep myself from hoping
that maybe...you are meant
to caress me gently this time.
And love, you did.
Your hands reached me so softly, so slowly
You made me believe you came
to my spot to not wreck me
but make me grow.
I felt the way your chills sent warmth
from the top of my leaves down to my roots,
making the blades of my leaves grow dull in your presence.
You were so gentle, my love.
So delicate and soothing and dashing,
I felt myself shivering,
melting,
craving for what the breeze of autumn
like you feels like.
But then you stopped,
and suddenly, I couldn't feel you.
and suddenly, I couldn't reach you.
it was as if you never came in the first place.
As if you didn't just swoon me with your
gentle caresses.
For the first time in the entire year,
I suddenly felt... empty...
And only then I knew empty
is a feeling that comes when you expect something to last but didn't.
I've mistaken your warmth as love
and I've allowed myself to fall for it despite your danger
It was late when I realized
I shouldn't have.
It was late when I looked at myself again...
It was late when I figured...
That you only aimed to blow against my skin,
just to empty my branches.
09/30/2020
