Atonement.

When I break, I fall like Autumn leaves the trees barren for the winter;
like a lover that has taken all it can before departing.
Beautiful to behold the spectacle right before I hit the floor, stripped bare.
All the reds reflected in my eyes, my ire overwhelming me with such arrogant anxiety.
Denied of you, the air, the oxygen that I had depended on to help me breathe,
my world becomes diseased and waits for winter's cold to numb the pain.
My blood has frozen inside me as the reaper waits restlessly through the delay caused by a deathbed made of sharp snow; such a contrast, to the softness of it when I was young and innocent still.
The pieces of me are scattered and on display for all to see and scrutinize.
I am brutally aware, for the first time, that I have spent my life waiting for a sun that refused to rise. My demise is imminent now that the seasons change;
a sobering reminder that life will always go on whether or not
I am inspired to evolve or resigned to rot.
The birds and the bees disappear as the streets become bare, a clear sign indicating the loneliness that is about to set in.
I scramble to find shelter from the abrasive cold that
relentlessly robs the lush green landscape of its clothing,
reducing it to spindly bones.
But in my haste, I have forgotten that I have no home,
as my soul sees its opportunity to leave and escapes through my blue lips,
excited to finally feel atoned.