stomachs down on the gym floor
wishing mine was concave
summer sat embedded in the wood, under the
scent of fourohnine and that sweet sweat of
we stuck our feet between lead-streaked backpacks
and laced scabbed fingers together as we
touched suicide with our fingertips
yellow ribbons tied tight around our wrists
(but darling, baby
it can't touch us).
s.u.m.m.e.r has been sleeping in our hair
drinking up our dreams
writing promises in the sky
swallowing the notes in our music and
leaving us with simple
(summer's just through the window,
you're just what i needed.)
we sucked on cinnamon mints
and practiced numbing our tongues
and while your eyes skimmed my neck(line)
and i noticed the way your own shirt stretched tight
over your shoulder muscles
and left a blank spot
in the middle.
put my mouth
(and you know,
he smelled like a
l i t t l e.b o y.l o s t in laundry detergent
and love and
you're just what i needed).
A/N: You'd think after not writing for so long, I'd have so much inspiration and emotion bottled up that this poem would be beautiful. But um, I think I'm losing whatever little talent I had. Anyway. Please review.