계절

I find myself thinking about the seasons a lot. I don’t suffer from seasonal depression like most people like to say they do, in fact I’d say it’s the opposite in a sense. Where most people pine for the hot summer days over the dark and cold winters, I find myself in love with the winter more and more as I grow. The longer and darker nights leave morning walks relatively undisturbed and provide a kind of peace that the sun could never. The sun is hot, it’s intrusive, it casts shadows. The dark, brisk mornings of winter do none of this. It lets you be. Nobody could ever be more free than 7 a.m. on a winter morning. Snow on the ground, moon in the sky, nothing but footsteps in your wake. Free to be with yourself and, most importantly, undisturbed. I’ve always loved the winter.

 Winter.
I never wear boots when it snows
They just lead me back to the places we once were
Reasons why I don’t leave a path in my wake
Terrified to follow them home
Do you think I’ll ever be whole again?

Spring.
I owe the world a debt it cannot, and will not, forgive
There is no more tension in the spring to life
I’ve never jumped into a pile of leaves before
The morning dew and mud puddles are now unwelcome distractions
Did you think it was safe to let me go?

Summer.
Wildfires bleed their hearts out
You could fill a lake with the tears you’ve torn from my heartstrings
It’s been hard to forget lately
Your summer wind has passed
The record keeps skipping along

Fall. 
Death knocks on my front door
A welcome friend when
Every step outside is a reminder that there’s nothing to fight for
The world has turned and left me behind
The leaves fall and trees die and their littered remains plague my every thought
It’s a long way home from here

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