Autumn
A thousand stories told of you —
mine is still to unfold.
Different eyes see you ablaze;
with mine, you set fire to my soul.
You change your clothes mid-day, mid-way,
and you will change again.
I dare not look away.
I call myself a summer girl —
sun and sand and seas galore —
but when you sneak in like my cat,
I can’t be sure anymore.
Or maybe you’re just one person
with multiple, intriguing facets.
You baited me with a sunny smile,
then lured me into your net.
This net of yours has pumpkin pie —
I never understood why.
I hate the taste,
yet here I am —
to be carved, and knifed, and spliced.
Though beauty comes in many forms,
yours remains unmatched in every way —
maybe it’s your unpredictable charm,
Or maybe you are –
like a woman scorned
Who would cut you to pieces
After inviting you to play
– Autumn (aka beautiful melancholy)
Winter
I cannot complete my seasonal fest
until I add Winter to the rest.
She won’t be nice,
she won’t be sweet —
rest assured,
she will make us weep.
Winter is that hateful bitch,
old as the hills
haggard as a witch.
She swears at you,
cigarette in hand;
you just take the blows,
thinking it’ll end soon.
Not quite — not quite.
That bitch won’t die.
She’ll blast your face
with one last cry.
While you stand there,
shivering in a pile of snow,
wondering why.
What is your problem,
you spiteful hag?
Didn’t you overstay,
(sans welcome),
with your dirty bag?
-Enough Already
-Curio Athena

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