·˚ ༘ ➳〔...and, oh, to be the sun〕 ࿐ ࿔:🖇
It is summer.
You are still damp, chlorine from the pool soaking your skin and hair,
Panting, leaning on a tree, you look over to the guy that you forgot was there;
What was his name? No matter what you did, you couldn't remember,
It was a memory, a fallen thought just as distant as the cold December
The song of cicadas is vibrating around you,
And the sky finally remembers the color blue.
Lay down on the grass, deaf at his word - who was he again? - and smile,
The air is hot and heavy over your body, so you find yourself daydreaming for a while.
Your skin feels somewhat tight, you know there'll be a sunburn tomorrow,
But today you indulge yourself in a life that won't allow any trace of sorrow.
The touch of foxglove burns into your chest
Convincing for a while your heart to rest.
You could sleep inside this moment for however long forever is;
The shallowness inside you threatens to let you fly at every small breeze,
But you are finally not afraid anymore; under your eyelids there's no nagging terror,
No fear, no dream that has become a nightmare and has gone feral.
Your heart begs you to close your eyes,
Let your ears deal with meaningless lies.
The song of a hummingbird vibrating through bones, down through your spine
It is only your soul and body that you can call 'mine'.
So heal, heal and emerge victorious from life's selfish water
That has tried so hard all these years to drown you, to pull you under.
It is finally summertime, enjoy the sun,
Let yourself this time be your number one.
You now remember his name; you chuckle, how dare you forget?
You remember now, he'll heal you, on him you placed your bet.
He's the one that brought you here, reminded you warmth was not a crime
And taught you in the end how to sense the summertime.
Love him.
Let the summer in.
CITEȘTI
Of sweet and sour - poetry book
Poetry...and maybe sometimes words and paper are enough to heal a wounded heart
