Broken Autumn

You think you are OK.
You drive through a place that makes your eyes well up.
You think it will pass.
It doesn't pass.

They say it will hurt less to walk in the park,
But the radio assaults you with songs of other people's strife and joy,
Both stab with the same vengeance,
They say to play CDs and you find one that is safe.

People think you are insane,
Because Green Day loops 24/7 on your car stereo,
You can't risk FM anymore,
You don't bother with mascara.

Fall turns red and yellow,
Trees color your vision like a murder,
Stains of gold orange red that burn holes in your corneas,
You can't look at foliage because you used to love leaf peeping.

Scents of raked leaves and pumpkins on window sills,
Sweaters and hockey season throttle you like kicks to the stomach,
Kids trick or treat and you pull up the covers,
Friends pick apples and you just go numb.

The thought of a turkey has you dropping five more pounds without even trying,
The thought of creating family where there is a hole equates bile and throbbing head,
One suggestion to travel asks for cringing at the thought of other people's joy,
But you want to run: that's a constant.

As leaves turn darker and the colors start to fade,
You wonder what you will do with a whole winter.
Dark when you leave for work,
Dark when you get home at night.

Dark despite the lights that are supposed to dispel the specters from corners,
Dark despite candles that are supposed to keep you hopeful but only smell like what used to be home,
Dark despite half-hearted encouragement shrouded by doubt,
Dark despite the idea that new beginnings are supposed to be light.

Where does darkness lie though?
Is it in your heart or really just the season that hurts,
stabs like knives,
wrenches like sickles and sews your eyes.

When the source is revealed,
It should be shared with someone who hides from the smells and sights and breezes of autumn,
Because it only gets darker,
As Winter drags on.