I'm done with you long days and short nights. Your hot hot weather. I'm finished with the trails of sweat dripping between my shoulder blades and collecting on my jeans.
Fuck you summer and your no summer romance. I'm done with your mosquitoes and bumble bees. I still hate you for frying my sunflowers.
I'm leaving you for the crisp autumn leaves. The only promise they make is not to promise anything.
3 comments:
squid, you write pretty pretty things. write some more?? soon?
you're too kind, darling, really you are.
(That was my "I'm trying to be a snobby ahhhhhtist" voice.)
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