lucky 27

somehow im stuck in august 365 days of the year no matter how many mondays pass me by. kelly green to crying yellow. ive always thought it said something that i lost that four leaf clover after pressing it between the pages of the heaviest book i own. i think about running away more often than i think about staying for the people i love, and i wonder what theyd think if i told them ive been giving up on getting better instead of my worst habits. it hasnt snowed in a long time. i miss cold hands and slush wetting my shoes unsuited for the weather and the feather light touch of snowflakes on my eyelashes and the nip of the cold on my cheeks. i miss the way it reminded me of you. somehow kissing you is less intimate than the way you look at me sometimes. i wish you knew. i dont want you to.

this is beginning to hurt.