August comes too close for comfort
Like a bee about to sting
So I tense up and wait
to set everybody free.

A trail of pity they will
leave behind for me

fighting against something

that may or may not be meant

to happen is a pointless endeavor.

I have always enjoyed putting

myself up for something that very,

very easily could have me totally

shot the ****

down.

find me here.

against a car door.

a tilt of the chin.

but nothing more.

strawberry blonde.

a dark brunette.

blue and green eyes.

meshed and matched.

eight-hundred miles,

here it’s nineteen.

a train-wreck

i am waiting to see.

so we meet again.

you’re the long stretch

between insomniacs

and their view of the

sun rising east.

even the birds are asleep.

and so my life rushes by.

no more razor scooter afternoons,

Barbie jeep and a kickball marathon,

walking home from school in spring, swinging a Powerpuff Girls backpack.

jumping on hot black trampolines, burning our small feet,

running to the park to see if we were able to hold on to monkey bars.

no more alligator tag evenings, falling down in wood chips but brushing it off-

I have always been a tough cookie.

and I become an adult soon enough, a victim of my own past and a

culprit of my future, but nothing in between.

Honda Civic and a movie marathon,

liquored-up nights,

high as the midnight sky, staring up at stars as far as the atlantic.

what did I ever do to you?

Guess you’re just a past,

from high school and the boys,

forget me and the rest.

Every new one says

“How could he do that to you?

You’re amazing, you’re great, you’re the best”

but they do the same as the last.

Someone out there who will handle my neuroses?

My jealousy, my protective, my

distrust and inability of sleeping?

For now I’ll slip into a sun-soaked summer coma

I’ll forget you and remember alcoholic nights

puffing sweet-scented smoke into clear air;

Fine with me if you don’t want to see

pink cheeks and light brown hair.

i don’t miss you, but i miss simplicity.
i miss being held, i miss being cared about.
nobody does that anymore,
nobody cares to make sure i’m okay.
my friends do, but it isn’t the same;
they can be there for me, but not in the same way.
for the first time i have no one but myself,
and if i want you in my life again eventually,
i’ve got to learn to take my own advice;
“sometimes, in order for someone to be in your life
later on, you have to let them go right now.”
italic i’ve never been good at listening to myself. *italic