What Fall Brings

Numb fingers.

Pins and needles in your limbs as you stand.

Putting on your favorite sweater,

Soft and warm.

Tiny pinpricks of cold,

Finding every hole in your clothing.

Smells like wet plants.

The air tastes of rotting leaves.

The crunch of hidden twigs,

Under fallen leaves.

The fading light.

Less of it,

And for a shorter time.

Blowing on your hands,

Desperately trying to warm them.

Illusions of warmth,

Of brighter,

Freer times,

Far off,

In the distance.

Clouds that once looked nice,

Now fill you with an endless,

Heavy dread.

Snow is coming.

Light is dimming.

Times are getting busier.

Seasonal depression,

Yard work.

Hatred of the outdoors.

Hatred of being confined to indoors.

Too cold to comfortably exist.

To many people inside,

To just happily sit.

Leaves,

Leaves,

So many leaves.

It's fall.

You're falling.

Time is falling away.

The sky has fallen,

And it's always dark.

Falling,

Falling,

Falling.

Slipping on ice.

Sharp icy knices,

Piercing your throat and lungs.

Too cold to move.

To cold to stay still.

Dying,

Dying.

The trees are dying.

Summer is dying.

Idolizing death,

Taking pictures of the dying trees.

Trees,

Trees.

Letting their beauty fly away,

Empty,

So empty.

Empty,

Empty.

Nose cold,

Warm mug,

Empty.

Empty.

Food.

Not enough food.

Nothing is growing.

Leaves,

Dirty snow.

Piercing cold,

Confinement inside.

Miserable,

Miserable.

Fall.