Autumn

it's weird.

autumn supposed to remind you of all sad things. i mean, don't most break-ups in novels and movies take place during the fall? just look at the scene: the dead leaves finally gave up hanging onto the thin branches, before finally fell down helplessly in despair. even the sun declined the broken hearts' pleading to warm their days up, giving more reasons for them unfortunate souls to stay inside the dark corner in their bedrooms, their comfortable zone that is- just like how the grey clouds being the sun's. 

so it's weird, how the sound of his name echoes- out of all seasons there are- autumn in my mind.

i guess his pair of deep ocean eyes manage to project the season so differently. the leaves, though dead, appeared so alive through the reflection of his lenses, painted in sunset shades as they flooded the dull ash-brown ground underneath. they blended so beautifully with the grey sky that day, with damped pavement of sussex street below, where i stood, leaning toward the bottom end of the queen's statue, lips chapped from the cold autumn breeze but heart warm from the view.