we burned the way sunsets do. but we didn’t return as a sunrise.
I didn’t want you to mean so much to me
but you really fucking meant the world -
your nibbled fingernails delicately grazing against my skin in that August heat,
we got high and I wrote senseless poetry
as we laughed when none of it made sense,
we made these memories and these promises not knowing how much with a season - we’d change.











