Your savagery became my compass.
Your obsession with coming out on top
Made me fall leaves beneath your feet,
Crunching and dated, dry and discolored.
That's one way to see the season, but
What a wrongful interpretation of me.
You don't get to decide who I am after I've
Fallen from my branches. I took that leap.
To survive you, I became a better me.
I am who I am, the autumn leaves swirling
From the highest bow of the tree outside
Your house. I am a breathtaking crimson.
You try to crush me under you, but
I'm fresh fallen facing you, fire red.
You're a joke in my head, and when you
Slept beside me, I thought of how deeply
I wanted the summer of my life to last.
Now, dear, my autumn has nearly passed.
And I am a new season, I'm the snow that
Blanketed the ground outside my window
This morning. And I am the scent of a fire
Wafting through the quickly cooling air.
I am the evergreen that stands strong
Under layers upon layers of white.
And I'll be the northern star, smoothly
Drifting, a diamond in the winter night.
And forever I'll be my own compass.