I always have high expectations for summer
Not sure why I allow myself to do this every year
Maybe it’s because I’m trying to leave the school year on campus
And escape the people who make me unhappy
But then I’m let down each summer by the people who are supposed to make me happy

This summer it was a boy who told me I wasn’t a second choice but then still wanted someone else
Last summer it was the high school friends who told me it would be forever but then still had a list of complaints on me

My birthday comes around in July and I’m reminded of when I was suicidal at 14
Because everyone forgot my birthday so clearly I shouldn’t have been born.
I wanted to quietly step off a pier and die on the rocks but my brother sitting beside me kept me grounded

The summer is coming to an end now and I’m terrified for school
I don’t want any high expectations and be let down
A perpetual cycle of being excited and let down over and over
And when I see the girls who pushed me to the side I hope that do not cower in fear
A new school year is dawning and the unknown is in front of me

mismatched furniture
a few dishes in the cupboards
a couple random blankets and lamps
a pan and a mug or two in the sink
a broken clock above the fake fireplace
a fake jackalope head on the fireplace

a couple college kids' apartment
my brother and his roommate
it isn't much but it feels like home

My home is a wasteland of cigarette butts and coffee cups
Help in repose for better mornings
Where a bitter taste in my throat lays dormant
And I think alone, in regret of nothing

As fresh *** brews and *** ignite, thumbing my finger ring.
Tracing back words in search for other purpose,
realizing secrets as regrettable burden.
Clear throat for first sip, and light a second cigarette.

It is not insomnia but rather being too bored to sleep.
It is not knowing what to do with your hands
When someone says they love you.
It is wanting to discuss film, art--
Hell, anything, with anyone--
Only to talk yourself down
Before the words escape your throat.
And yes, All the words come from there.
Some guttural utterance only heard for those that care.
That pesters you too.

All the nerves in all the world with all the words,
and there's nothing wrong with them in my head.
Passions intermix and weaken,
with every passing moment of thinking,
So I speak of Russian filmography,
mingle as hands press to small of your back.
In an instant, a stutter, a wide expression.
But my hands were always in my pockets anyway.

"Sometimes the curtains are just blue,"
An old professor told me once
From behind his olive green desk--
In front of a whiteboard that made him look small.
Curled over, I respected him more
For the fact that he knew
Nothing everything has a purpose.

Purpose is as purpose does, "I know I know nothing."
Pretentious is as we may be, sentences full of stuffing.
Like our shirts and puffing chests, teach me like you went to university.
Analyze in caffeinated anxiety every word ever said to me.

‪and soon we all would forget,‬
These petty little thoughts,
When our mind wanders,
In places that shouldn’t be brought up,
Like in a memory we
Were walking down the streets
Of a gloomy Thursday evening
As we spent hours and hours
Just talking about our desires
Oh we went on and on
About our dreams and disasters
We had so much to aspire,
But that was already months ago,
As now i sat on my floor,
So i laid my head on my pillow,
And my heart starts to feel,
A little bit hollow,
My eyes start to see,
The dark sky outside my window,
I didn’t realize how time could be so shallow,
Taking my precious moments away,
God, why am i feeling so mellow?
Oh how I wanted you back, boy,
Back to where we said our very first hello

we walked through
campus together.
the sun was shining,
purple and gold
flowers lined our path.
in the fountain outside
of the library
birds were bathing
and the campus cats
were sitting in the
bushes, only admiring

because they know better than the boys on campus what not to touch.

Take me back to the night we met
When the day was hot
And the air was humid
The sky was crisp
And the clouds were nonexistent
Our skin spotted with sweat

My life was sprawled out in front of us both
My emotions were high
But you didn't care
You listened to it all
Stories
Memories
About my family
About my friends
About my random little trinkets
Things that meant nothing to you
And everything to me
You listened to it all

Take me back to that night
When we cleaned sticky **** off the wall
With Magic Erasers and Goo Gone
When we did nine loads of laundry
And you saw all the underwear I own
But you still didn't care

The air was silent
But we filled it with our voices
With laughter
With nervous excitement
Coming from the first date
Take me back to that night
When I first fell in love

i haven’t changed at all since the day i was born
my hair got longer
i got a little taller
but i’m still unexperienced and afraid
crying in a room with my parents
except this time
they don’t even notice.

Isn’t is strange how we notice things when it is too late?
This is probably the last time that all of us will be in the car together. There will be no more midnight drives from hillside theatres. No more 2am dinner plans at kerbey lane.
This is the first time that I have noticed that you twirl your hair when you drive. My eyes have shifted from cityscapes flying across backseat windows to watching you wrap your hair around your finger.
It’s not slow and flirtatious, but quick and desparate, as if you're trying to distract yourself from the fact that we are growing up. It’s making me anxious, but I can’t look away.
This is the first time that I noticed the change in our silence. We are driving down nearly empty highways, and we are leaving behind our time. We are no longer laughing, and this silence doesn’t feel like it usually does. For once, none of us have anything to say. Or maybe, we know that there is not enough time to say all of the things that we should and want to say.
This is when I noticed how much I love driving down empty highways at midnight. Everything is slow, there is no rush, and, for once, there are no expectations of me.
I am finally, truly noticing that there will never be enough time to tell you all that I love you,
to hear you talk about science,
to hear about your travels,
to talk to you about your struggles,
to drive, and laugh, and cry with you,
to watch you twirl you hair.
Now, we have grown up, and our distances will strain our years of friendships,
and there will never be enough time with you.