I have never seen someone change more rapidly then the leaves dying, breaking away, disappearing. I call you October now. I dreamt of meetings at the beach morphing into wool socks intertwined and eyes covered during the scary parts of your favorite Halloween movie. But darkness started coming, hours prematurely, and I guess you didn't like the way I looked in twilight or the colors splashed across my face of death and decay that you so love October. Because warm summer kisses turned into cold eyes and fingers tracing the spine of some other girls back, curled up the sweatshirt I left behind And you didn't get rid of. And I didn't realized it until I was left kicking dead reds, oranges, and browns, searching for the memories I'm afraid I dreamt. I am left barren beneath the empty branches.