prose · Uncategorized

summer’s last will and testament

summer used to breathe down my neck, but for once i leaned into it. i’m holding its hand as it fades away, steadily, painfully, its skin growing colder, its face growing paler. it’s like i’m trapped in an hourglass and before i know it september has me gagging on sand. in my nightmares, red leaves spread like bloody wounds against the sky, and i’m left with nothing but the smoke from blown-out candles. i wake up wondering how something so beautiful can still make you wish you were dead.