Summer. Or Something Like It.

Summering has always been fun.

Even under the blazing heat of the sun.

But this summer was more than hot. I got burnt.

Toasted, both sides.More on the inside.It hurt, big time.

Along the way, different strokes of the fiery wind

Rushed to brush my skin.

Some slight, some deep. Some piercing like a sharp blade,

makes you bleed.

It was blemishing, wanting to leave scars.

Marks seemingly not mended with a dab of healing clouds.

It was like a chant haunting my senses. I can smell it.I can feel it.

And see it beyond the sky, behind the enchanting full moon at night.

It was a terrifying.And it goes on and on,

all over again, repeatedly. In constancy.

I wished for it to vanish rather than me.

It is so powerful; it makes you be ill with it.It makes you suffer.

It makes you endure the throbbing.

It makes you stop breathing. Your heart stops beating.

I would have rather stopped breathing under the waters.

I would have rather suffered catching my breathe biking uphill.

I would have rather disappeared beyond the fog.

I would have rather stomached a furious boat ride in an open sea or knocked off by that great big wave from my surf board ride.

Or just die, stroked. Morbid. It was.

I felt like screaming in the middle of my slumber.And shatter the poignant nostalgia that killed my spirit.Many silent sleepless nights,

I can only hear the sad humming of my heart.

I had to awaken my soul each morning, be alive again. Walk. & Pretend that everything is alright. Then another day. Then another. And another. And another another.

No lyrics of the saddest song can spell it out. But this has to end.

Tomorrow, I wake up.

Finding the sunshine of trust beneath the dark clouds,

even on a rainy day.

And let my heart start to purify.

Look up to the heavens,

feel every drop of grace.

Exist.

To live.

To be in love,

all over again

with this thing

called life.

Or something like it.