A Requiem For the Summer Of You And Me. 

It’s a Tuesday and you’re lying outside trying to soak up the last rays of summer sunshine, you open up your eyes to stare at the sky above you,  

And the light from the sun hits your face a certain blinding way and you’re suddenly three months prior

 to when you bleached your hair and changed your phone number.

You’re remembering the way his voice sounded when he said


The ways he resisted you 

and how you resist the urge to call him every Friday night when you’re two drinks deep into beers with  different boys

 because none of them remind you of rejection

 and it scares you to think that’s what’s keeping you grounded. 

You’re sweating under summer sheets making love to boys who treat you like a jigsaw puzzle; everyone tries to put it back together but someone’s always fucking it up and walking away without giving it a second try. 

You’re remembering all the ways you asked

 Can I get close to you?

and how today  they sound like

Can I get over you? 

By the time your sight returns, the sun is setting on another day where you had to remind yourself that you’re not alone despite feeling lonely, 

 and you’re in a better place, 

 one where you’re promising you won’t wear his  sweatshirt for the entire month  of October, maybe you’ll burn it by December and stop lying to your friends about  dating new people, 

or maybe you’re still in the same place trying to forget the way regret tastes bitter in your mouth. 

The sun is setting on this day, this heartache, that boy, the ways you stitched up old wounds with new thread 

and it’s time you rediscovered the urge to go back inside and stop beating yourself up over how you can’t control the way the wind will blow or if he will choose to follow,  leaving you behind to pick up the pieces once the dust has settled. 


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