High school fell in love with Summer on a Friday.
He loved how free she made him feel.
He loved her smell.
He thought she was hot (but so did everybody).
He sat in backyards and thought about her.
She made him want to drink lemonade.
She kept him young.
She burned him.
And when September came, it was over again.
Never disappointed. It breaks my heart because people think inanimate objects or words can't be in love.
ReplyDelete*grunt of appreciation* this is my favorite thing I've read all summer
ReplyDeletelast line. thanks for reminding me to write again with your message today. I missed it. Sorry this isn't poetic, but you're always right.
ReplyDelete