I take for him the auburn leaves
basking in premature mists of December...

.
I am held...

The wooden house crumbles
underneath the weight of misery...

Sorry...
I'm sorry for whispering...

It's not my burden
it's not my responsibility...

[When the sienna sun
bids its love to the quarter moon...

The bells below echo
and I discard their warning...

i
see it...

-
my qualms...

You say I'll get over it.
That everyone has to experience it somehow...

The world outside is inaccessible to her-
index cards plastered onto skin with...

You'll do anything to be satisfied,
even if that means dressing me up as if...