it’s august and it’s unbearably hot and i’m 18 again. the summers a hazy, melancholy dream and im wishing on shooting stars. my ribs ache but i can’t tell if it’s from the laughter or the pain. i play it cool and sit in backyards at night filled with smoke and bright eyes. you never called on my birthday. it was all hot cars and hazy days. too bright for tired eyes. i didn’t think you actually meant it when you said you never wanted to see me again. i always thought you’d come back. i’m sorry i never answered your calls. my moms been yelling a lot more but i think it’s just because she cares too much. i think my house might be haunted. we don’t tell ghost stories on the phone anymore. i cut all my hair off and killed the girl i was. i want to be more kind. summers are meant for rebirths right?
summer aches
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