i fall down a lot
and while i'm laying back to the ground, somewhat starry-eyed with both my palms slightly grazed, i've been reduced to trying to explain the size of the sky to you. this is what i do when i have other things i should be saying but can't cough up right now. instead i'm mumbling about how the clouds have been wringing the bright blues of the sky dry with sapphire ribbons of raindrops for days. or about when you meet me at the shore and send shivers down my spine, all i can think about is how the sky never ends. i want to stand up and explain to you that i like my lightning without thunder and that i want whatever it is that's beyond the horizons. i want to say that i stopped listening to the radio since you told me silence is a better suited soundtrack for falling in love and that my blood is rushing through my veins so fast that i swear you should be able to hear it. i want to tell you that it's just become completely obvious what i'm living for.
but it's autumn and i'm dying.
i'm dying to tell you i'm falling.
i'm falling for you.

you never trip
so i worry about you not being able to stumble into love. you're sitting on the pavement several inches to my left saying exactly what's on your mind. you explain that you see me when you close your eyes and you can't decide whether that's a good thing. you've got my scraped hands held between yours and you're saying that my heart beats too fast and that our rhythms might not mix. as your eyes flick from the sky to mine, you tell me that you like thunder without the lightning since it reminds you how small a heartbeat is and that when you look at the sky you forget all the words you want to say since maybe we are endless. you explain how you've been turning the radio louder to drown out your thought since you never lose your balance, but you've been stumbling on your words like there's something you've been meaning to say. the air we breathe is thick with hidden meanings, but you're swallowing all your truths when you say you don't know what you're living for.
it's autumn and you're dying.
you're dying to not be so stable.
since you're too stable to fall.

we are a mess
as we lay in a pile of tangled limbs and drying leaves. there are sentences locked behind our teeth, but we both know what we're not saying. i'm explaining to you that the falling part isn't so bad as you worry about the landing. but i tell you that we'll never have to crash and collide if maybe we could overlap in the middle. i promise i'll do the falling if you catch me.
it's autumn
but maybe not everything has to die.