October Did The Best It Could. Poem by Aria Siren

I have a bad habit of resusitation
Trying to catch flickering light in my hands
Pasting leaves back to branches
Kissing dead faces with a box of crayons

October did the best it could
But you are slipping away on this hospital bed
Saw through ribs and hand over my heart
If it meant keeping your fading leaves red

I bite through a season's wrinkled skin
Trying to break open the veins beneath
Leftover words dribble down my chin
And your inky bloodstream stains my teeth

Lungs struggle to filter the bad from good
I am burried in the mulch of your madness
Tonight I will dream on your mossy grave
Tonight I will let myself feel sadness