The Fall of July

The fall of july has brought the months I spend thinking about the days ahead and watching myself grow up in a different atmosphere where age is just a number of the months before I have a birthday every year of the day, but chasing my dreams while also living most of my social life as an introvert and being online through college where i am now a sophomore and it only makes me feel nostalgic to the point that hiding behind my computer screen has become a regular thing, and before I became a homebody I used to walk through the streets of highschool where my soul and mind just captured the lyrics of the music and even through those peaceful walks where no music was being played and it was just me and my thoughts, and while looking at others faces seeing what lifestyle they chose to live made me feel influenced by others behavior aspects to the point that my younger self filled in the lines of her scrapbook.

But as the fall continued to arise, the colors of my mind continued to change the mood to the point where my mind felt like a lock box of my own thoughts. You could never change the younger self of you but you could only hope for a better future for yourself, and as for me I would not want to change the past or anything that happened in my life because it brought me to the surface of the ground where I felt like raindrops in the soil just ready to drown, but the leaves kept me surfaced and so did the roses as the fall of July became my September alibi.

You could only chose your story as far as it would go just to change the leaves before it went below but as for me what I write a week is my saving grace of closure, where the words are not just my spoken voice, but they are my diary of words I could never turn the page just to skip to the end before I got to read all of the words I could never get again. But each time I would look at the face of the mirror of my own reflection and see all of the words painted on the screen as if it was my own creative masterpiece.

Before the ink dries out to write the script to the story

You could chase my words on paper, before the ink dries out, but the words flowed out of my mind before I could process the print, and then the document began to export, and once the words were written out, I had no choice but see the final draft, and then it all came together like a drop of the playing cards from a hat.

The fall of the leaves, only left the marks as words of my stories, where everything fell into place with my heart, and then the outside lights began to create a spark, and finally hit the lights. The only fall that began to burn the candles in August but is now reaching towards the end of September, but as you continue to figure out your life, as I am living mine, and creating story after story, to record my life like I am living inside of a main character, even though I wish it could just be a dream life in an Episode Story game.

Loving you in a dream and in real life

Loving you in a dream and in real life, seems like a faraway possibility, but nothing is ever impossible without a dream, as long as we everyday manifest the life we want to have, we will attract it, and that is definitely a fact.

Loving you in a dream and in real life, still keeps the dream alive, and never let’s the thoughts of us fade away, but keeps every part of the story a dream of a love story that won’t stop until we reach the ending.

Loving you in a dream and in real life, but each time I continue to dream of you, I still know that those feelings are still true, even when I fall asleep and dream of you and me.

Loving you in a dream and in real life, and every time a new story of us is being written, I still think of you through the words, another chapter in my life, that has not reached the ending because it is only yet another beginning.

Loving you in a dream and in real life, still speak like thoughts in my mind, while we both stay up at night, and wake up to the morning of the day, that makes our life worth living each and everyday.

The thoughts of you that run through my mind

The thoughts of you that run through my mind,

and still continue to be a manifestation for my words in my stories,

and channel all of my thoughts as if they were growing reflections inside of a mirror.

The words of my stories,

that make me think of you more,

each and everyday the words that are the writing of everything between,

because as fate first started this story in a dream,

I ended up capturing the moments that started my life,

through the words,

that only seemed to capture the night sky.

Even though you can’t see me,

through the face time of the phone,

but the glass of me is looking back into the other side,

but the line between you and I comes as close as the picture,

on my photographs,

through the mind that captures them all,

like a lens in a scrapbook of a words on a camera.

I remember every piece of the memory,

that I kept inside of my mind,

but the love of us is what I keep inside,

where every voice became a word,

and then the words became a storybook,

of unwritten verses,

that kept it all silent,

just like the one’s of my secrets,

that are in the back of mind.


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