Autumn is an afterthought, Everyone loves Autumn but no one knows Autumn No sees how Autumn sits in silence listening to music in a corner, how She only talks when necessary. Or how she never goes out unless called upon. No one sees how she’s the floater friend, No one sees that Autumn bed rots more than anyone she knows Autumn is the definition of gray, of loneliness, someone forgotten the only Autumn people know is the one that is first to tell you “it’ll be okay” or “I’m always here if you need it” because she never wants you to feel what she feels Autumn could tiptoe to the afterlife and no one would notice, because yes Everyone loves Autumn but not the way they love spring or summer That's how I know, no one knows Autumn
