Running from the Rain
"Hear the summer counting down"
|
I am beat down by the sun. Not my stubborn hands that have flirted with winter even come close to a steady stare in the open. I sung along to a song, hoping something up there could hear me.
My frozen yogurt souped up in a swirl of my favorite flavors. My hair a fiery hurricane. The car welcomed a breeze that was exceptional even with the degrees running up to 97.
I wrestled with my thoughts today how far gone I'd nestled myself in the dream-like summers that used to never end. While everything today ends. The days are of exact velocity, exact frequencies. Nights are of the same dreams and nightmares, formed in a fetal denial.
The decisions I make don't seem to point at a direction remotely near where I can see. So it almost doesn't matter. So it almost doesn't matter that the hole will never be whole.
At least not today. Everything today ends.
And I make less sense today than I made the day before and before. But it almost doesn't matter. What anybody reads here almost doesn't matter. I really am just fond of...repetition, ha.
My frozen yogurt souped up in a swirl of my favorite flavors. My hair a fiery hurricane. The car welcomed a breeze that was exceptional even with the degrees running up to 97.
I wrestled with my thoughts today how far gone I'd nestled myself in the dream-like summers that used to never end. While everything today ends. The days are of exact velocity, exact frequencies. Nights are of the same dreams and nightmares, formed in a fetal denial.
The decisions I make don't seem to point at a direction remotely near where I can see. So it almost doesn't matter. So it almost doesn't matter that the hole will never be whole.
At least not today. Everything today ends.
And I make less sense today than I made the day before and before. But it almost doesn't matter. What anybody reads here almost doesn't matter. I really am just fond of...repetition, ha.
_
