a welcomed descent

from fall into winter, the warm shades of orange fade to gray and white, deep into the cruelty of the cold new year. falling in love with the wrong person is an equally welcomed descent– the sweetest decline– from the first surge of feeling to the miserable winter of a cold heart. when you choose to invest your love in a futile prospect, it is like choosing to be infected with a terminal illness. but this cancer is benign. it is a dead mass anchored to a heart which fears emptiness, and it cannot give birth to anything, even the richness of misery when it is unjustified.

make haste, oh grand scheme of life. wipe the clouds from this starless night and renew the deep hues of autumn so we can gracefully descend once again.