Home is a place untouchable.

I lie here, my bedroom window open.
God, if I ever had a home it was among autumn trees.
I can only imagine the perfect moments of my life before you.
And they're all among trees.
It will be the same this year, my few months of home.
I will stand out in the yard, wrapped in a jacket, coat, scarf and gloves.
I will breathe in the cool, crisp air.
How I love the autumn air.
Though my lungs reject the passion.

How could I reject such peace?
My health, the bane of my soul.
Nevertheless I stand, arms stretched wide, in the cold.
The sweet scent of falling leaves, the soft crunch.
Dance with me?
Play with me?
I'm never more alive.