I’m tripping over the edges of carpet where we’ve folded over the stains
That are really our true colors but because they don’t match
just like the pain when you left I pretend they don’t exist
I’m trying to fill in the holes you left behind but
I was never good at weaving
what I know in and out of what matters
like running into hard truth when you left me stumbling in the dark that night and I’m not going to say it didn’t hurt
and maybe I cried
at least I tried to switch on a light
you were using all the power you had not to break down too
and I blew a fuse
because we talk more now than that last week
and forever
shouldn’t have to depend on how good we are at sewing because as long as our fingers knotted we could hold together
and besides needles always scared me
puncturing holes in the torn trying to fix it up but it was never really the same again
never worn, just thrown in the back of the hallway closet like an extra blanket for the winter the fire in our hearts finally went out
and I didn’t ever want that weather to come
I want to keep autumn
I want to keep falling for you
and not over the edges of the carpet
staining it again