Autumn Love

Looking into a water-filled soil basin,
a remnant of the evening's downpour;
my eyes surpass my own reflection
and that of a nearly bare tree requests my attention.
My memories of last Autumn,
though it seems forever has wedged
between then and now,
rush back into my mind,
splintering through an unconscious divide:
the emotional blockade I've made
in response to being to afraid
to think of you since then.
For I can't let my weakness shine through.
But put your shades on,
for there's nothing else to do
to keep the tears of my demise
from illuminating my eyes.
You always seemed so strong
what else is there to do
when disease riddles your bones,
sipping life through a swizzle stick
as the only option I had left
was to pray
to the nonexistant dieties.
But I would have done anything
to keep you here,
to let you stay.
You had been making me strong too
over our short seven months
that seemed to not suffice as a replacement
for the endless life we wanted together.
But now I can feel myself
growing weaker by the second,
and the only thing I can think of is how
since you went away,
the days grow long.
They've become too much to handle
from dusk till dawn.
But I must keep going
for in these moments when I think of you,
a sunburnt orange leaf
falls from a tree
and lands on my shoulder
to wrap it's arms around me
to remind me that all I must do is breathe.
Because you're there with me.