my love

warm orange has turned to deep brown this is the hardest month yet i adore it so much endless new books and the smell of old ones leaves covering the ground like shards of golden glass breaking beneath my feet hot coffee soft blankets and darkened hair all my favourite things in theory in reality i spend it  beneath a weighted duvet and weighted thoughts spaced out and cold every year i'm reminded i exist that i must exist despite the fact i don't want to and all the pills in the world won't kill the pain of september october is so much better and more beautiful she's more gentle i adore october it's arrival will comfort me and strengthen me so i can survive the winter for one more year

 you can't see the sunset from my window nor the sunrise it comes as no surprise that all i get in my room is dull light, everything feels artificial  when i switch the bulb on that sits firmly on my ceiling as if i'm in a hospital bed the flickering hurts my head and i wonder if i'm being pedantic  upset over nothing all the time, i watch elderly women walk their dogs from my window slowly making their way across the grass and listen to children screaming late into the evening when i close my eyes and listen to the sirens sometimes i pretend i'm at home my bed empty without warmth next to me i miss it even though i thought i wouldn't, it's sad that i know i can't open my window at night anymore nor walk at one am when my head needs to clear so once i close the door it's just me and these four walls for hours, it would be nice to see the sunrise through the window one day perhaps it'll make the mornings a little easier and i'm less tempted to sle...