the wind comes over the rooftops. and the sun is pushing through cloudy skies. brushing away the gray, it comes in patches at first, then streaks until the sky is blue with wisps like trails and spots of breath floating.
i ought to be asleep in the park, but instead i’m here in my room on [...]
Tag Archives: summer
the hours are longer that we forget
June 9, 2008 – 8:20 pm
and the days longer that we remember. our hearts are faded around the edges. like an old photograph, our eyes are staring at the blur and the indiscernible wondering at the thoughts that pass by or the signs we let go; overused like our imaginations. we were blind to the words that poured through, silently. [...]
i am the summer,
May 30, 2008 – 8:15 am
shining through your hair.
but you’re not here, and i’m miring myself in (the) rain–at least for now.
i’ll find it creeping through the spaces between buildings and cobblestones paved in light like the sun.
…these nights are burning.
all of a sudden
May 17, 2008 – 2:32 am
…i miss everyone.
and there’re two days before i’m gone for real–if only for a summer.
it feels like a lifetime.
we ride the streets at four in the morning
May 16, 2008 – 3:02 am
…we wave at emo-kids as we pass by.
summer comes in cold
May 13, 2008 – 1:02 pm
…and we all breathe easy, if only for a week of freedom before the travel starts. Wandering forth through gray and windy city streets, I find innocence clearly–and something missing. It was naive to think it’d lessen with one final circle, or writing my name, because in freedom comes a venturing imagination and [...]
distractions were like summer
May 12, 2008 – 10:41 am
…and we fell into them early, hours.minutes.days before we were supposed to.
when you left, summer left with you.