there’s nothing more depressing than the transition of summer to fall. summer was full of fun, prioritizing friends, and living your life. fall gives one more time to think. more time to detach yourself from reality like a leaf falling off a tree. it’s only temporary until you land on the floor and realize, you’re just another meaningless leaf on the floor. what happened to the fun back in the summer? your friends? living your life? it’s back to your routine now. summer is just a fever dream as you go back to reality watching the days go by and watching the leaves turn red and yellow. the same colors as the same street signs you see on your way back home everyday. it’s all the same. you’re just like any other leaf that fell to the floor. in the end, no one picks up a leaf unless it’s special. in a pile of leaves, how can we beat the intricate patterns and curves of others when there are thousands of other leaves that look the same. life prioritizes the special leaves while the less attractive ones grow to be ordinary. living the same days until the leaf falls apart into smaller pieces. what’s left of the leaf then? what can we leave behind in this world that’s special for once?

Like the ticking of a clock, always moving forwards No one doubts the motion or what the hand is pointing towards The shift is so sudden, yet no one complains Because this is normal when the seasons change The clock points to one, the beginning of summer The heat washes through as we hit the next number The third quarter cools, an introduction to Autumn The Sun kisses you goodbye and leads you towards them Autumn catches up when the clock hits four That’s when the leaves drop, a welcoming mat for the door It’s chilly with bold warnings of to come Four, five, six, then more fun! Autumn guides you down to winter Seven, eight, and nine Lacy flakes of white drop down on you Like a hug hello The sun breaks free and welcomes you home Tells you there’s one last season to go Bright colors and flowers as the clock ticks forward Ten, eleven, twelve, then start it all over

Time swiftly moves As I inhale my air. If my breath is too short I go through in agony. Too long, and I've missed everything. My life, my dreams, my hopes, faded. At least I can still breathe now. I control the airflow entrance. I control my life. ✨

The first snowflakes are so delicate, They do little more than signal Winter Is coming. I can’t tell you why they cheer me, Waken me from bleak summers. The break of dawn is cliché When the trees are thicker With green than even the Overgrown lawns. The heat goes beyond unbearable, Twisted with the humid air; It sticks to skin and saps All the fibers of muscle To a weighty glob of mush By the time you’re back inside. I can scarcely recall a time, However, I didn’t enjoy when the branches Were naked and bare. There’s little fun compared To trodding through dead Leaves crisp underfoot, Skipping in brisk air: a vibrant rush to the lungs. It’s a time made to refuel My taxed heart, To cherish the moments to come.

The snowflakes danced their final waltz, A silent ballad in the fading light. The girl stood by the frosted pane, Her heart as cold as winter's bite. She longed for spring's sweet resurrection, For sunbeams to thaw her icy core. "Perhaps," she whispered to the wind, "The sun will mend what's torn.’’ But spring arrived with timid steps, Its golden touch upon the earth. The crocus bloomed, the robins sang, Yet her heart remained untouched by mirth. The thawing snow revealed the scars, The memories etched in frozen veins. Each petal unfurled, but not her soul, For grief had woven its silent chains. And so she watched the seasons shift, From winter's chill to spring's embrace. Her tears, like dewdrops on the grass, Still traced their paths upon her face. The daffodils danced in golden gowns, Their laughter echoed through the glade. But she, a ghost among the blooms, Clung to her sorrow's wintry shade. The sun, with golden fingertips, Stroked every petal, every thorn. Yet her heart, encased in winter's grip, Stayed frozen, and forlorn. And so she wept, her tears like rain, A silent plea to thaw the frost. But spring, indifferent to her pain, Moved on, its warmth forever lost.

One day, I hear the birdsong again. I see the daffodils bouncing for joy as my train rumbles by. As I remember how hope feels, I notice a sun ray protruding from the clouds, creating a million mile spotlight. As if the universe is asking me a million dollar question; “_How could you forget about _**_us_**_?_” ——— I wrote this 2 years ago today. Every year, I underestimate the strength of seasonal depression, and how much it affects my regular clinical depression. Every spring, I feel the need to apologise to the world for how I’ve resented it throughout winter; for we cannot witness the rebirth of life if it isn’t for death. There is beauty in it all. I’m still learning to move with the world and it’s natural patterns, rather than fighting against the cold winters. ———

We start in Winter, With her dark locks, And smiling face that’s warm and soothing, Even when it’s snowing, Even when it’s too hard to go on, Then she leaves. Then she melts as quickly as she came. And it’s sudden, You don’t notice until it’s right in your face. Then Spring comes along, With the flowers in her hair, And the laughter that sound like freedom, Even when it’s raining, Even when the world feels like it may stop. Then she leaves too. Then she escapes in the middle of the night, And you’re left with the smell of flowers and the feel of sun, You wonder how you messed up this time. Suddenly Summer’s there to pick up the pieces, With her blonde hair, And the beams that feel like you’re the only person on Earth, Even when it’s too hot, Even when you wonder how she does it, Then she too leaves, Then she merges into September, And you don’t even realise until it’s too late, You’re left with the feeling you missed out. Then Autumn comes along, With her auburn plait, And the eyes that focus only on you, Even when it starts to get cold, Even when everything’s changing, Then she abandons you for the fourth time, Then she starts to drift away, And you watch this time, You don’t know what you could’ve done differently. And every time, You wonder, Was there something you could’ve done differently? Was there something you could say? Something you could do? Or are you destined to watch everything you love leave? Are you fated to watch everything change, While you stand on the sidelines. Asking Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, To please stay. To give you another day. But then you look back, And you realise that they never left, Not really. They’re still there inside you, And they always would be. You realise that now you’re soothing like Winter, And you laugh as easily as Spring. You bring sunshine like Summer, And you focus on people like Autumn. And you realise that no one ever truly leaves, And neither will you.

Empty, bare, void of light Fruitful, blooming, cheery and bright Chilling, brisk, bitter and cold Sunny, warm, basking in gold Baron, lifeless, eerily still Bountiful energy eager to thrill Melancholy malaise; freezing in time Awakened and renewed; taking what’s mine Ill and crippled by icy despair Joyous as life become blissfully aware Winter darkness looms over my mind Spring rejoices, leaving worries behind

Ice trickles down aching arms Leaves shed months of hefty snow What dragged them down now gives them charm A glistening light of natures growth

If I were to compare thee to the summers day, Thou would not be the the lovely warmth of the sun, or the trees of fair green. Thee would be the hot scorching flames, Under the tempting golden sun. Thee would be the maddening heat, Driving men to commit deeds only passion commends. And at which hour the dizzying temptation subsided, thee morph into winter. Cold and unfeeling, Pale and unyielding. Breaking my heart worse than the scorching flames I fell. My winter, my summer, thee shalt be the death of me. And the air that grants me life.