Uploaded September 2025 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago

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On the yellowing sides
Of the leaves fallen from the branch, I wrote your name
But you were merely a fake smile.
And you never knew the cold of my hands.

It was September.
What we lived was a past tense with "di"
That's why our steps were short
That's why my gaze was still.
As false as your word in yellow-hot sentences,
As desolate as your hands,
I was taking breaks, as untimely as you,
And our sorrow was a childish selfishness.

It was September.
When time traced the marks of your sudden departure,
Now your silence had no meaning.
I was left stark naked in the middle of your silence.
Then I walked for a time on the edge of cliffs that gave no echo to my voice
I sought your voice the most.
But your eyes were still hanging where you left them.
Time erased your eyes..

Like I said… It was September.
That's why our loneliness was scattered.