falling leaves
by thursdays and rain
101008

-,-‘-,-‘-,-‘-,-

your thoughts are
precise.
feelings do mean
naught.
they signify nothing of importance
in this world
that has yet to be defined.
like the pressed flowers
in delicate spiral-bound notebooks,
all i have gotten left are
memories.
torn up pages of my past
still haunt me in my
sleep.
with my eyes closed,
i glimpse only a miasma
of ancient reveries
better left
alone.
how i wish to be rid of these
wretched dreams
and fling them away
like dust in the air!
if the beating of our hearts coincides,
does this insinuate that we are
of one soul and of one spirit?
but how can i search for meaning
when i have yet to comprehend
what we have become?
and as we dance inside this tragedy,
my love for you is like the russet-brown leaves that
f
a
l
l
from the umbrella trees,
they lay
dead and forgotten
against the pavement.

-,-‘-,-‘-,-‘-,-

soundtrack:

yesterday’s feelings by the used
all that i’ve got by the used
the night will go as follows by the spill canvas
parker by automatic loveletter
when the day met the night by panic! at the disco

a/n: hey, I revised the format.. hope this is better.. as for my story Boy Meets Girl, I honestly don't know what to do with it.. it may take a while before I manage to update..