Autumn Equinox Baby
I was born on balance––
an autumn equinox baby,
overhearing diss tracks
and slander.
I cruise away from the noise
on canela-scented winds.
They love to hate a Libra
yet breathe relief
at the kiss of fall.
You see,
autumn saves.
It cools the burn of summer pride,
lets the leaves drop
like truths too heavy to hold.
And isn’t it something––
that we’re the only zodiac sign
made of metal
and judgement.
The scales of justice.
Keeper of fairness,
and what you’d rather not face.
We bear the burden
of balance––
of seeing both sides,
of holding harmony
while the world trembles
into chaos
At our most naïve,
we silence ourselves
for your comfort.
But make no mistake––
an imbalance of power
makes me tick.
I talk circles around polarity.
I reflect what’s real.
I am a mirror
you either learn from
or walk away from.
Either way––
your lesson, not mine.
I was born
into gray skies
and deeper thoughts –
born as the leaves died
as the air turned crisp,
as the scent of change
rose from the soil.
I’m cold-blooded
not without feeling––
just attuned to the chill
that truth brings.
And once,
I believed everything I touched
would die.
But now I know––
I don’t kill.
I just reveal
what was already ending.