I'm swamped by the powder of the charcoal destruction that covers my hands 

There's no place more empty than me

And all I can think of is that I need to black out in your arms for as much time necessary to be brought back up again or never to return.

Tired of tales of woe and sorrow, still I know there's no tomorrow, but this emptiness lodged in the extent of my chest, sucking my inside into a black hole, doesn't mind anymore  about anything and I just want it all to disappear. 

Walking through broken leaves they still shatter underneath my feet 

Making noises like crunchy chips 

Like the darkness that shows up deep from the crack of my smile so does the desolation of the melancholic autumn season creeps behind the golden red and brown beauty all around.

The falling leaves, those trees tears, come swaying slowly like all my fears. 

I cast a poem out of the gentle yellow breeze into my persistence and courage before winter comes and makes them freeze.