I am ready for summer to dance back into my life.
I will always love that season above all others.
I am ready for the heat and the long nights,
the bugs and fireworks.
I want nothing more than to care about only making sure that I am out of the house every single day more hours than I am inside.
I want scorching cement under my feet.
Chalk and bubble solution soaked into all of my clothes.
Every negative inch of my soul is brightened up just a bit under the summer sun.
Water balloons and the sun roof down.
I want it all back.
I know we all love Summer, most of us do anyways,
I guess I know a few people that can’t stand the heat.
But summer has always held this idea to me that I could become infinite.
I can change my entire life around with one fantastic summer,
if I just went headfirst into it.
I would come out with golden threads plaited into my hair,
pretty thighs and green flecks in my eyes.
I will come out with a sense of fearless courage I lost too long ago.
I can be sure to find my five year old self longer than a moment when Summer comes back.
She will sit with me, happy that I can find a natural smile in the muggy humidity.
I will hear her confidence in the back of my mind before I go bungee jumping.
She will tell me that we have never been scared of anything.
Her twang will pull at my heart strings,
and I will never resist such encouragement.
At night when shadows creep up my spine,
she’ll squeeze my hand and I’ll laugh at the monsters in my head.
My five year old self would kick my *** for the ways I act today.
My head floods with the best of old memories when July creeps upon me,
I will see skipping rocks, and trails,
and all the smiles I put on people’s faces.
I will hear the pride in my dad’s voice,
and it will sound like it is in my reach to get it back.
Wild innocence will grow back inside my heart,
if only for a few months…
The backbone that bends without breaking will straighten itself with threads of spider’s silk
and I will look people in the eye,
and I won’t care what they see inside of mine.
Then August will make it’s appearance,
and I will balk, like a horse at flowing water.
I’ll dig my feet into the hard earth and my head will fly back and shake the mirrors in my face.
I will only see the awful darkness that awaits me the rest of the three seasons.
Then I will hear that voice, asking me to promise, to be honest…
to try all year long, because there is nothing to be scared of.
I cry at the end of every summer, just because I can’t stand for my happiness to leave me.
She will tell me if I cry, she won’t stick around;
and I know that I should swear,
pinky promise and try my damnedest.
But by the time September is here, I am a mess.
The shadows and monsters have taken up residence
and Fear has his hands crawling up my back,
undoing all the threads that were holding up my spine;
smiling all the while, bringing up goosebumps on my paling skin.
Fear takes me while I wait for Summer to save me.