Arms swinging through the air only to touch my own sides. A tiny speck in the distance now defines your essence, it lingers. Look into that cloudless sky while the breeze ruffles through my hair. Deep breathing leading to memory repeating. And out of all those memories, I didn’t have to pretend to be happy…
mostly in the summer.

Cover my countenance with a mask, but with you it just arrives naturally. These times have been chiseled into my mind. Though sometimes while my eyes are shut, my dreams are vivid like the breeze that ruffled my hair.
Nothing false fell from my mouth.
The only words that were heard came from the pulse of my disgusting heart.
I miss that cloudless sky. I hate this story book, it makes me feel alone.

There was a presence behind the hands that sculpted my summer. The detail of the sun, the complexity of the simple grass. There had to be… or else my body would fall apart.
This constant twisting in my stomach would become all too real.
I never really liked falling apart, it makes things more complicated.

There’s always that one part to the memory, the end. That makes what ever sweet thing you’re dreaming of so **** bitter…that it’s foul to the mind. Who knew grief comes from beginning smiles.
I wish I was numb, to everything, especially the touch of the eyes.

Nobody can fit this imprint in my body. Your hair on my shoulder as my eye lids collapsed. Breathing as though it was the rhythm of my life…***…***.

I think I am numb now. That disgusting pulse isn’t going out to anyone, mostly because I can’t find it anymore.