Autumnal Passings

Poetry by | October 31, 2022

october is insanity—
i’m so scared of insanity.
it’s the rotting of vegetables in the yard left to be overriped
feasted by the pests, every second is a thousand bites;
its likeness comparable to a deer striding the woods with an open wound,
its flesh delighting the flies, clothed in maggots and the sentimental crude.
i find it strange and similar to my state,
undead yet rotting.

november is the decline—
the season slowly declining.
the way the leaves leave the branches in the morning
and by afternoon they’re just dead leaves and more than nothing.
on the ground they lay and stepped onto by people
ignored as they always were but existed in time’s ripples.
it’s so cruel to know their fate,
a historical imprint without a name.

the autumnal atmosphere creeping in the spaces between my hair,
slowly and frighteningly pulling them out for survival.

Lexi Eve L. Bacala is in her first year of studies in Medical Laboratory Science.

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