New Leaves This Color

I feel so out of season in the most poetic of ways.
I smell like amber, autumn, and pine-

A melancholic nostalgia in a brisk spring,
Cool enough to reminisce on the you
I am remembering from a lost October.

You were
A shrill sound,
An abrupt awakening.

We were wrought with
Infatuation and sleepless nights.

I got high on my abuser.

But today,
I miss your belly laugh.