As the leaves turn bloody,
begin their descent to icy ground,
I am still falling
too.
Still trying to staunch the flow
that rushes from my wounds,
pumps from my heart,
froths from my mouth.
The clouds begin to oppress,
pushing down on me
like concrete
as I shiver and cringe.
I don't know if I can continue
to live without knowing
that you still exist,
that you still breathe,
that you aren't just a figment
of my tortured imagination.
I don't know if I can
make it through the winter.
You destroyed me,
left me to suffer alone.
You turned away from me
without shame.
But somehow...
I miss you,
I love you,
I'm not dead
yet.