This summer is dropping off my fingertips like vanilla ice cream used to on a family trip ten years ago.
It is mid-July, every morning feels the same
I wake up from the sweat that is travelling along my spine,
These warm mornings have me feeling so nostalgic lately,
This lingering feeling is overcoming me steadily.
The sounds from my childhood, they awaken something strange in me. Something so familiar which yet feels so remote.
And then there is you.This ball of light like a hot sun in my sleepless nights,
When I couldn’t sleep, and I've had all my smokes,
When my bed stopped feeling like a sea I could drown all my problems in,
When my arms had forgotten how to hug, how to touch, how to feel.
With just your presence I can finally remember me.
Who I used to be when I first got my bangs, when my hair was still blonde like sunflowers in the sun,
When I was careless, running in the fields,
When nights like these didn’t exist,
When mid-July days were all playgrounds and vanilla ice creams,
When my mom called me beautiful and I could make my father proud.
Your presence reminded me who my real identity is.
Thank you for bringing back the girl which I for ages miss.
marie
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 10:14 AM UTC
This summer is dropping off my fingertips like vanilla ice cream used to on a family trip ten years ago.
It is mid-July, every morning feels the same
I wake up from the sweat that is travelling along my spine,
These warm mornings have me feeling so nostalgic lately,
This lingering feeling is overcoming me steadily.
The sounds from my childhood, they awaken something strange in me. Something so familiar which yet feels so remote.
And then there is you.This ball of light like a hot sun in my sleepless nights,
When I couldn’t sleep, and I've had all my smokes,
When my bed stopped feeling like a sea I could drown all my problems in,
When my arms had forgotten how to hug, how to touch, how to feel.
With just your presence I can finally remember me.
Who I used to be when I first got my bangs, when my hair was still blonde like sunflowers in the sun,
When I was careless, running in the fields,
When nights like these didn’t exist,
When mid-July days were all playgrounds and vanilla ice creams,
When my mom called me beautiful and I could make my father proud.
Your presence reminded me who my real identity is.
Thank you for bringing back the girl which I for ages miss.
marie
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