season

strawberry milk and blood dripping from mosquito bites i always loved summer until i grew up the heat makes me evil headaches split my head into tiny pieces ice cold water consuming my too tan body, death toying with me, close but not close enough trees never providing enough shade, too selfish to share the breeze, too beautiful to hate stupid books my mother piled on my bedside table too occupied to kill myself, and too lazy to care i'll end it in the winter dalmatian spotted knees and cigarette burns i always hated winter until i grew up skin so pale you can powder your nose in the reflection of my breast coffee with milk and no sugar the cold makes me feel real, perhaps i am, or perhaps i need another smoke i stay indoors and i read and i write and i paint and i feel i find anomalous comfort in the rot too lazy to kill myself, and too occupied to care i'll end it in the summer