july is back again. / july is back again and it feels like I haven’t moved an inch since last year. / two girls walk into park crying. / feel like the punchline to some sort of sick joke the universe thought was funny. / funny as in, at 6, my mother told me not to cry because the sky and I shared emotions, and i believed her. / i know this isn’t true, but this month all the sky does is pour and i think maybe she was right. / this month is all bruised knees & lace skirts / all beat up sneakers & white lilies / all art museum & a million missed calls. / i want desperately to live on the moon. / i realise how cliché that sounds, but i need to live some place that has a heart as heavy as mine. / my best friend says I’m too, well for lack of a better term, explosive. / little gasoline girl who likes the smell of firecrackers too much. / july of sweet lemonade, of sunbathing in the middle of football fields, of sleeping away the sadness. / i don’t love him. i don’t even like him. / but it’s just July, it’s just i like the feeling of having someone to call at night, it’s just that i’m tired of writing about old love. / i braided flowers into my hair thinking that this way, at least some part of me would be beautiful. / i hear the word lovely & don’t think of myself. / what i’m saying is, i still can’t look my own reflection in the eyes. / i spent three years learning german in school, & i spent two learning you. / & even though I’ve forgotten how to ask for help in german, I still remember your favourite colour. / call it tragic. / seven years after the death of my grandfather, my grandmother still refuses to stop loving him. / says, he will always be in her heart, even if his has stopped beating. / we walk by a cemetery & she sighs & says, at least they’ll be together soon. / says, ashes / ashes / we all fall down.

[part 7/12 of 2016 series ]


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