I pensively close my eyes and seize the moment,
Licking my lips,
So dry, chapped, and malnourished.
I begin to wonder why things are so.
Why do people change?
Why do we obsess?
I ask these things almost furiously as a brisk, harsh breeze snaps my eyes open.
I gaze at the world before me. The spiny outline of the trees.
The dead, shriveled leaves adorning the dry dirt.
The very leaves that were a beautiful golden color not weeks ago.
When did I change?
When did I get caught in the middle?
When did I start noticing the crippled deadness of the leaves instead of the purity of the autumn sky?
When did my mind stop wandering in the clouds and start lingering in the darkness of things?
When did I grow up?