Warm days
Heavy nights
Lemonade
Mosquito bites

Dancing bees
Delicious honey
Sweet tea,
Yummy, yummy

Swimming pools
Shade trees
Staying cool
Ice cream

Summer showers
Juicy peaches
Budding flowers
Warm beaches

Vacation's over
School begins
Time's slower
Summer ends

ALesiach © 8/2016

Do you not see me sit and consume her?
The ex, the past lover.

I tell you she’s only good on the outside,
That the closer you get to the center
No matter how soft her skin,
How sweet she is just under her flesh,
She could be perfectly in-season, temptations taking months to taste.
you always find a way to that hard, dark, sour core—
Unbreakable by design.

That’s what gets passed on to her next in line,
I tell you.

You nod distracted,
You aren’t paying attention anymore.
I am beyond being seen,
So, I **** her in plain sight.
And in my words, a part of you that still listens understands.

Your subconscious stores her name amongst the other dark things
That turns your stomach inside itself and warps the corners of your mouth, sour.
And you finish reading your article.

I crack her in-half and expose the pit, where sweetness could be
But she refuses to die easy.
She cuts superficially, and no blood falls from my hands.
Does that make me beyond saving,
beyond human?
Or did my body make a pact that there would always be a last time when your name could hurt me?

I eat her until all the soft connecting tissue is gone.  
And next time I ask,
You tell me, oddly enough,
you don’t eat peaches anymore.

I don’t know why
I love peaches like I do,
perhaps because they're sweet
and remind me of you.
Maybe because they’re messy
and their juice gets my hands sticky,
so I don’t forget the lingering taste.
It could be because the smell
brings me back to past summers
spent with friends just peaceful,
eating peaches and spilling tea.
Peach tea, I guess.
I don’t know why
I love peaches so readily,
Perhaps because they're tender,
and bruise just as easily as me.

The sunset girls with warm smiles and sweet laughter. With ice cream, diamond earrings, diaries, romance movies under fluffy blankets, strawberry shortcake, lemonade made slightly too sour with a pink paper straw and perfect ice cubes.

The midnight girls with a wild side and messy hair. With perfect eyeliner, surprising laughs, black sketchbooks, late night ramen runs, stolen oversized sweatshirts, black cherries, fluffy socks under polished black combat boots tied in a neat little bow.

The sunrise girls with addicting voices and perfect high ponytails. With slogan t shirts, velvet scrunchies, red lip gloss, chocolate covered bananas, paintbrushes and easels, early morning hikes, coffee with creamer, foam, and probably too much sugar.

The sunshine girls with bright grins and  kind eyes. With light blushes, sweatpants, rainbow sprinkles, nails painted, flower tattoos, peaches and cream, messy bangs, sketchbooks probably covered in stickers and crop tops just short enough to tease, paired with cute bralettes.

I’ve got flowers
of all types in my pocket,
stars hung up
in the sky,
a dress
made out of sweetness,
honey, ice-cream, and pie.
I’ve got plans
for some tattoos,
a tiny blue flower,
stolen right from the clouds,
peaches and cream,
and a strawberry,
picked from the sunset,
delicate, pretty, almost a dream.
I’ve got a lifetime left
of laughter,
of tears,
and hearts shattered,
swept up, stored away,
memories clouded by sunshine
and London fog lattes,
talking with friends
in a timeless, gorgeous café.