The sun sets at 17:42
An October Poem.
Written October 2022, Zakopane, Poland
I swallow the rawness of October as it hits me in the face when I step outside.
Summer decays in the pit of my stomach, and I want to throw up all the memories—let them drip from my mouth onto the ground, so I can kick them like dead leaves beneath my feet.
Maybe I’ll lay in a pile of them and mourn the person I created for you, the one I had to kill to welcome back the darkness.
The sun sets at 17:42.