Autumn makes me sad and you’re only upset because we found bloodstains on the floorboards.

Nothing is truly haunted. It lives in our minds until we create monsters, I’m sure of it. They hide under your bed where you keep a stash of Percocet’s. Let everything go numb until the ghosts stop calling your name.

The leaves are getting tired and so am I. Autumn is showing us how beautiful dying can be, but you’re still hung up on what’s haunting you. Said the bloodstains aren’t ours and I remind you how we sliced our palms and held hands last summer. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

And I guess the real monsters don’t hide under our beds, they live in our minds, after all. -AMT©️