When the colors transition,
from lucky clover to mucky sod,
from granny apple to decaying teeth,
from greenback to rust...

When the leaves drop dead,
on the stark feet of nature,
on the lively remnants of spring,
on the cement trailing off into the unknown...

When the life inside streams out,
to hide away until it's safe again,
to find a warmer hearth to sustain it,
to take cover from the storms rolling in...

When the sturdy branches break apart,
snapped off by rampant winds,
snapped swiftly piece-by-piece,
snapped and left bare and weakened...

The tree mourns all it lost,
and it stands strong despite the odds,
and it slowly builds itself up again,
and it starts the suffering cycle over again...

Just like your change of heart,
when our conversations shriveled up,
when you removed my protective mask and left me vulnerable underneath,
when you slowly picked me apart piece-by-piece...