Nothing like the sound of crunching leaves
to bring back the memories
of past missteps.
Memories of candlelit dinners and
whispering tunes that always
made you feel.
You promised me that we could feel
each other under our fingers
but I only felt
the coolness of the band on your hand,
and that was enough to remind me that
we were in your office, not our home;
We will never have a home.

The falling leaves make it one year
since I've felt you,
and with every fall, and every crunch
I feel the pang of the day
I walked away.
The first stanza is good, shows some story; and I like that it reminds me of autumn. Good job
I don't like the second to last line, it drags the piece down a little bit to me.

Other than that, a really nice piece, it seems to capture a feeling I've been trying to get with my pieces but I appear unable to express it. Good job.
It didn't take long to realise
The safest place was not her arms, but her eyes
Where she can't see you
For her gaze, it blisters;
Grey skin to cinders