august is over

there air is still and i'm reminded of late summer when everything was vacant and it was just me, myself and i and the whisper of a distant and almost unreachable hope dancing in the late shadows of an August evening when everything was green and the air was warm and heavy.

sometimes i feel like i could just reach outside my window and touch that day; when the sun streamed warm and my skin glowed with it's stain.

it is winter now.

and the light is too bright, reflecting off of the old layers of snow and bouncing inside of my room, casting sharp shadows in sharp angles across the walls. Creased papers lay besides me and I often turn to look at the words, carefully scribbled in neat rows. I just want to slip in between the lines, because I know i will find you there, waiting between our names that you spelled out with the tip of your pen.

Just for a moment, i can feel whole again.

i'm ready to get out of this lonely town.