summer wilts, posing as a browning grape vine with her leaves sprawled across my sun struck windows/ the sunset digs her nails violently into the ground, hanging against the horizon in protest of the ending daylight/
who am i to leave myself hanging/ who am i to skewer my heart on sentiment/ who am i/ who am i to drink myself sick with memories reminiscent of
grapefruit goodbyes and illusory beginnings
every time ?
9/10/20
