It's the kind of summer where we chain smoke on rooftops and listen to that record you promised I would love.
Where we take a road trip to a town where nobody knows our names.
It's when the sun sets late and rises early but it doesn't matter because we'll lay in bed and hold each other all day anyways.
It's where we are young and reckless and I think I could fall in love with you.
It's a summer full of kisses that taste of honey and wine.
We lay in the fields and whisper poetry to each other like we're sharing secrets,
and perhaps we are.
It's the kind of summer where we sit at the window while it storms and hope that this lasts forever.
It won't but we are foolish and unaware of the fact that when summer ends we'll be all alone again.
And it's a bittersweet feeling to know that every time I light a cigarette or listen to that record I'll be reminded of that empty place you used to be.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
