we drank each other's hearts under the sun,
with me conflating with your arms and your kisses and your love.
we were moiety.
i called you mine and you called me dime. and everything was so fucking perfect, because i couldn't tell the difference between the sun and your lips. and i didn't matter 'cus they both made me feel like my name was summer.
i can't even remember my name anymore. i sing along to pretty girl by clairo and tie my shoelaces between your ribs, so you'll go wherever i go and never look back even if it's to see the rising sun for the last time.
how dare you talk to to spring, her skin isn't as warm as mine, and she's certainly not a dime, those are cherries drooping from her ears not rubies !! i saw you kiss her lips, like you had once kissed mine, and now i can't get rid of the frost from my tongue.
i will never be like her but i try and try and i keep tripping over these damn shoelaces that you've managed to untie. and you keep on looking back at spring and it makes me feel melancholic, and nobody deserves to feel sad in summer. even me.
everyone tells me it'll be okay but it won't be. summer isn't meant to be spent alone and now nothing will ever be the same.
because you're in love with spring and her sunkissed skin and i'm sunburnt, and imperfect and it's not fair at all.
i soak the sun in my skin, not even the devil can look me in the eye and now i drift with the clouds, just to see you with spring one more time. for once my eyes shine brighter than hers.
