Autumn leaf

I’ve become my own prison, confined inside a monstruos mind. It tires me out even to breath.

I’m being held captive between these four walls by my own self. I draw arrows pointing down my wrist, but I won’t taste the blood.

Everything seems so sad. How the trees are losing their leaves, how they are slowly detaching and falling down without a sound. Do they scream? Does it hurt to be pulled away by some unseen force? Does this make the wind their god? It seems so ruthless.

Even so, I like autumn. I like how the noise, the summer buzzing, is losing intensity, everything slowing down, places becoming less crowded.

But my birthday is approaching; only a few days left… And it makes me think about my own mortality even more. It makes me think about how another year has passed and I haven’t changed at all. It seems that time doesn’t heal anything…

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