Beginning of November

One of the first days of November

gave me an awakening.

Just as I sat down on the blanket outside,

we were still fighting.

Pressing my rose-colored lips on the straw,

I drank my double-shot vanilla latte with soy milk.

I promised myself not to look at my phone screen.

He was a Marine so his replies were normally delayed.

But when the replies come, nothing but hurtful words.

As I ignore the insulting texts he sent,

I shifted my attention to my teal notebook 

(that was no more than two years old)

Writing rusted and unedited stanzas,

I was met by a rather cool breeze of autumn.

This was welcomed as a comfort.

Comfort from the city’s high humidity

Comfort from the internal, personal battleground.

Ballads,

sonnets,

confessional poetry 

(a favorite of mine)

The pages were dressed by my fine-point pen

of my raw words

in poetic styles.

This dive into my poetic words was much needed.

It was an escape from my reality of stress and heartache.

The autumn breeze kept hitting me

giving external comfort.

I can hear the songs they were singing 

as they shifted the dead leaves from place to place.

“Calm,”

they said.

“Remain calm”

As they continue to sing in my ear and on my skin,

I prepare myself mentally for the end 

of a three-year relationship.

I then noticed the sun was setting down,

giving my weak eyes sight of light and shine.

However, I did not feel pain

(which was a surprise)

I felt another sense of comfort of sight.

It was beautiful.

It was delightful.

The Columbian skies were painted in multiple warm colors.

As the sun continues to go down,

I can read the words they were writing in the skies.

“The end is beautiful,”

they wrote.

“The end opens up new beginnings.”

With the breeze singing and the skies reading to me,

I took a deep breath.

For the first time in a long time,

I felt okay.

I was going to be okay.