Norayah

I've seen the leaves grow and become green, then turning yellow, brown, red and finally dead. Season after season, it's all the same. The pain never grows, not it becomes less. It's always there ever burning, ever killing. As I sit here by the window watching the falling leaves being twirled by the wind, I start to think about you. I never want to think about you nor do I choose to do so, it just happens. Somehow fall always reminds me of you. Maybe it's because when we met it was autumn. Maybe because when we parted it was - yet again – autumn. That was always our season, it brought us together and broke us apart. Then again our best times