Natalie

16

Summer is

set on the cusp of a breakdown
the lull of black liquor
shinning so sharply at night
the moon flying home colors

despite previous assumptions
July falls right in between Wednesday and Thursday,
the whole month blacked out
the stars burning, alive
but that one star
the brightest of all
sat still.

there you are still driving
see, there between bad similes and too much coffee
driving over the yellow spine of the earth
still trying to find something worth driving towards

pulling in at 5:30
sliding soft steps over wooden floors
pretending you were asleep
but ever so suddenly dust begins to settle
on an old yellow friend
and you just can't keep your fingers from flying
across her worn fret board
your thoughts
so restless they begin to scratch their way out
alongside the sun
you too
wake up.