August is never warm and carefree
Its sun soaks up pain like it does wet concrete on a hot day
It lets my body bake undisturbed
While my untouched thoughts run wild
Running, like children on a playground
Scraping their knees on unkempt slides
Dead leaves dance goodbye to summer rays
While I sit and cry by the windowpane
August's best kept secret, is it's bodily autonomy
A searing eye slicing my skin, like butter
Its slender fingers grip my thoughts with unfettered dancing
As my hours go racing by
To be first for August's last sunrise
And bare witness to whatever's left to die
Dead leaves dance goodbye to summer rays
While I sit and cry by the windowpane
