3. dead leaves

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     Opportunities are leaves that pace the wind

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Opportunities are leaves that pace the wind. You may take a full, greedy handful or a hesitant pinch – or do both. Do you dare trail my foolish self, who believed too easy, and fell too quickly like the hopeful remnants of autumn that pave the way for a sinister winter?

I count the tired leaves which kiss the earth that had once nurtured them. Pulled them apart. Once, twice, a hundred billion times. It's simply unsettling; they remind me of us.

I doubt and question myself over and over again in a senseless cycle till no sense of regret drips from my eyes like sweet honey tainted with lies. "Have you ever thought of me; have you ever cared?"

Time flies back as I ponder on the revelation of a lifetime – to the day I found fault in your imperfections and the moment I blamed myself for your despair and despised myself for it. I figure that it was your fault, and yet I was in the wrong. But how could that be?

Perhaps we took each other for granted, like the spring day that ceases to exist when the warm breath of summer heralds the beginning of drought. Perhaps we failed to remember that we were in love. Perhaps our youthful, careless mirth led to our ruination. Perhaps we simply stopped caring.

- 3/5/18

- 3/5/18

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