the next ATSWACO chapter is coming, i promise! slowly but surely since my creative writing muscles were tortured this past semester - when you take a class on creative writing and are expected to be handing in writing on a daily basis, it kinda kills the fun in it. i've been feeling creatively worn out as a result and have been trying to give myself time to recuperate.
i thought it might be cool if i shared a fairly shitty poem i wrote for that class, inspired by mr taylor hawkins himself and his infectious energy.
-
A summer so hot it clung to our backs
like wet laundry, stubborn and suffocating.
The party spilled across rooms,
its rhythm muffled by thin walls
and the hum of a tired box fan.
But you—
you found the balcony,
a haven on the edge of the chaos,
all cigarette smoke and moonlight.
You grinned as if the moon itself leaned closer,
aching to watch you.
Your laugh,
wild and loose,
swung like a pendulum.
Catching every eye,
every ear,
until we were all satellites
orbiting your glow.
You told a story about a failed road trip,
something about a flat tire in the desert.
We leaned in, thirsty for it,
a vision so sharp it sliced through the sweltering air.
I remember the way you leaned
on the railing, the cigarette ash trembling
in the sweaty breeze, daring the drop below.
I don't recall what anyone else said—
their voices fell like loose change.
But I remember you,
still grinning,
still golden,
your shadow burning
against the balcony wall.
