iheartsummer

 I always liked when she started into her childish musings of some fantasy of 'forever'. How she'd casually mention the future, a few years at a time, then jokingly bring up marriage, then children. The guys, their eyes would always glaze over, their jaws would always click shut. You could almost see what they were thinking. But they'd roll with it, never wanting to upset her. I was impressed. They were stronger men than I. I don't care who she is, if a girl ever hit me with a sentence containing the words "our children", I'd drive a pike through the slats in her ribs and shish-kabob her spleen on sheer principle.

 Cheap shoes sound on the sidewalk above me, their silhouette burning into my aching eyes like an eclipse. You always did blot out my sun. Nothing but a pair of feet, I tell myself, lonely in a squared-off broken window leaking residual heat into a cold world. Nothing above or below, just glacial on the pavement. Even my basement apartment seems warmer than the November of the rest of reality. Footprints on the stairs now, one two three, skip the last step like you always do. Your jump onto the concrete jars me, shaking my jaw and teeth. The sensation echoes in my bone marrow and I feel the stinging impact on your ankles for you. Phantom pa