No Longer October by Alyssa Abell

I
 
If October is like crackling leaves of red and orange,
and a spooky breeze chilling the eve
and trick or treating witches and wolves with sweet tooths.
Then May is like sunny rain on
the inumerous, rainbow, flowers of spring
and allergies with teary eyes and bless yous
and the first spotlessly blue sky since last year.

Earlier today, on our way to camp,
came a curve in the road it was like
falling into the fictional, so many trees,
every shade of green, sky breaking through
brilliant blue and spotlight sun beams.
Doe and fawn lapping water
from a crystaline pool.
We stop, upon arrival we are greeted
by a chorus of birds and a giggling creek.

And this too was pointless I thought
a cross, too big, clean to reflect the sun,
ornately carved, beauty but a waste.
Sitting in company with others, outstanding
but too little too late.
Not even religious, my dear friend,
only his parents, they are trying,
now as they overcompensate
for a loss caused by intolerance,
their God must mock them now.
Too little too late.
My best friend, lover, gone
from his bed, his home, forever
because of me?
No, he says, what would I be without you?
I lay in our cabin bed,
far from his pointless grave.
Still jarred from what felt
all too real for me,
the note, the fall, the funeral
still haunting my mind.
He holds me now, apologies spewing
I glare through blurred vision.
Too little, too late?

One in a dream I remember falling,
cast down from the heavens,
all eyes on me, teary eyes.
I fell through day and night,
falling I was stripped
of all I earned,
my gown and jewels,
 my pride and hope.
Tattered wings useless
against the razored wind.

II

I never thought life could be
more or less than sweet you and me,
hand in hand and sweeping feet.
Clumsy at first but building
skill as we keep our eyes locked,
our only hope for a better future,
or any future at all.
Sweating palms grasp to hold,
you and I born into this,
our unbreakable class.

Believe me, what happened next
took the air from my lungs
and all comprehendable language
from my tongue.

The worst thing you ever said to me
was, I love you.
How could it be true ?
They say it was, I wish it weren't.
I wish it were a lie
so I could forget or regret less,
what I mean is
why couldn't I have died?

These days I feel like
a ribbon-ed dancer, stuck
holding my partner's limp body,
her only savior but looking down
I realize my partner is me,
my sanity, I hold her for dear life,
her graceful, delicate body hangs
artistically by a limb.

I always will believe in these few things,
listen to the words of children, they are wise,
love even when it hurts and you cry,
speak out when you feel the world is wrong,
sing out the words beating in your heart,
always be you, even when it's hard or scary.

Once in October I lost it all,
or so it felt, I lay
under the old pine, crying.
Absorbed by my own self pity.
A small child, curled up under the stars,
tears like diamonds to reflect the night.
It's my fault, it's what I wanted, right?
So why does it hurt?

But it's not October, not anymore.
October with cracking, tattered,
razored, and stripped self worth.
No, now it's May, warm breeze
to blow away winter-y dust.
Crystaline blue skies,
inumerous stars sweeping
away the cloudy heavens.
It's May, a time to bloom.