a 21st century lover

summer nights

summer nights - February 5, 2024 

Summer nights. Cold breezes. Cricket noises. And rustling leaves.

I rest alone in this solemn field of grass. Like knives, I could feel the blades of grass cut away at my skin and prick. Yet, I let it be. I am alone. By myself. In the embrace of no one but a chilling wind. I can feel my body deepen the earth. It is as sullen as my soul in these days and nights. In my mind, there is nothing of value. In my heart, there is not enough love to give. In my soul, there used to be my will. As I get up from this patch of dirt that has imprinted my size and shape, I look out into the distance. I watch how far and wide the darkness encroaches. See how far I can see before imagining falling off the face of the Earth. It's as if I'm slowly being swallowed. The shadows come for me. The trees are agitated and run rampant. The boisterous winds push through me. If I knew any better, I'd say that the end has come for me. If that were the case, then let the music I listen to become my thoughts.

Summer nights. Cold breezes. Strings strummed. And melodies are sung.

Instrumentals dance and voices are heard. The sound of the guitar and its acoustics reverberate through me. It's like my body had felt each strum and tug and press. My fingers lose their strength yet feel the sharp cuts of those very strings. Voices singing boom around me. And all that they sing and praise is that of her. Her. Her. Such a soft melody that kisses my ears and soul. Yet, it fills my lacking heart with something that was not as light as air. It sloshes and drags like a balloon filling with water. Balance suddenly becomes hard to master. My thoughts of her are lured out by these lyrics. Still, I am disoriented. At first, I was about to be absorbed into nothingness. Now, I'm on my knees and conscious of her. I start to wonder what she is doing. How she is faring without me there. Not even a single regard for my own impending death. Maybe the music has gotten to me. Maybe the lyrics, guitar, and voice have brought something out that it never should have touched. And still, I open my ears and close my eyes. I can maintain this balance no more and fall forward off into the continuous abyss. Still, though. Still, I think of her.