November and Everything after.
Here we go again, a little too late slipping in quitely with the cool air and the smell of damp soil, bringing that familiar weight of memories. I used to brace myself for you know, knowing you’d stir up everything I tried to bury – the heartbreaks, the longing, the ache of things lost. But this year, something is different. I just turned older, and realizing I don’t feel things the way I used to. There’s a stillness in me now that I don’t fully understand, a quiet that feels both comforting and unsettling. I used to be full of feelings I could barely contain, thoughts spilling over with the weight of everything unsaid, a heart so raw it seemed to bleed poetry. Now, that part of me feels quiet. Maybe it's because of his hand always wrapped in mine. But anyway, you’ve always been a time of reflection for me, a month that stirs memories I can’t quite escape. I used to find something powerful in every shift of your skies, your gloomy breeze, your wind, your melancholy. My words poured...