teen angst drips leisurely
from every clause,every verse
I read and hear here,
like bittersweet honey
metaphors pooling on the
sidewalk like
Summer rain.
  >how fitting.sadness and hurt raining on our savage revels of youth that were doomed from the start.

I remember watching
the Summer rain fog up and blur
the car windows as
Grandma drove me home
on the last day of sixth grade,
breathing more freely already,
now that the burden of
fake smiles and schoolwork was over.
I thought back to last summer.
Oh,that homely bookshop in Columbus
was a reader's paradise.
a labyrinth of books,endless fantasy worlds to dive into.I wanted to stay a little longer,just a little more,
more,
more--

I was so naive .
Maybe I still am.
But you can't hide behind
what isn't real)

paper is simply so onionskin thin,and raindrops
are so cold and wet and heavy.

>We left eventually,
strolling back to the hotel in the
Summer rain .