𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐘 ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ ✓

SUMMER?

god, you must've came at
the worst possible moment,
for months then it seems my
life was a poem without a poet.
you absolute sunlight of the
darkest corners of my day,
what was i saying? no — how did you
twist my life in your sharp-witted way?

how long had i know you? one... two...
three... wait, why did you say "years"?
i was tearing out my hair when i realised
how my memory was too unclear.
why did your voice ring a bell within
my darkened, shattered system?
why did you sound like someone i
knew from a foggy, dreamy distance?

my eyes glitched back and forth
your familiar face to the sky,
what had happened to the man who
had whispered all those goodbyes?
i couldn't recall the bittersweet
syllables running past my lips,
my heart sank to my stomach
like a broken, hollowed ship.

who are you? who are you? who are you?
the thought was restless in my mind,
recalling for your face was trying
to see when i was too blind.
because you reminded me of hot
breezes on the sand of summer days,
heated arguments with my mother
when i'd shout "it's just a phase!"

you stranger remind me of children's
laughter amidst carnival rides,
and couples walking down the
street with long, decisive strides.
your wit and awkward chuckles
pushed me into deja-vu,
full lips to a smile with your
kind eyes of honeydew.

i swore i could hear your laughter
echoing once again,
through the silence of my hollowness,
then at class at thirteen-ten.
but you bring me back to daylight
when you say you sat behind,
and it brought me wretched disappointment
when nothing came to mind.

when i closed my door and heaved a sigh,
i crumpled pathetically like paper,
trying to grasp on what i had
before it faded away like vapor.
you must've known me when i wore my façade
made of desperate hopes and dreams,
the one i repaired each night while
my parent's peace tore at the seams.

snarled tones and shattering glass
tore through walls and through my ears,
as i curled up under sheets i wished
were thick enough for tears.
in the dark i spiralled out of shape
with my own reality,
drowned in the blur of blues
and blacks in my distorted seas.

i knew i hid behind
and became distant to the world outside,
but i needed the memory most
when you came in with the high tide.
because i agreed to coffee at
the day you randomly chose,
and i swore to myself i wouldn't
be too tired to at least change clothes.

the days ran too quick and
dragged agonisingly slow,
the crystals and pebbles on
my floor had then grown.
what time is it? i rose from
my mattress on the floor,
mildew and dust felt like
it smothered my core.

what day is it? my delirium
has one again made me late,
ran to the cafè, excused it for
traffic, "sorry for the wait,"
but you were too kind when
you said you didn't mind it,
i wanted you to be rude, to be
arrogant, because i knew i deserved it.

luke