it was the dawn of summer when you left.

i remember the colors, and i remember the air.

i see it all when i close my eyes.

there are ghosts of March everywhere.

and now that the past and my present have aligned,

i hear the echoes calling louder, a broken siren,

a distress signal.

it’s summer again. and oddly, it all feels the same,

so full of ghosts, much like a film playing over and over

in a haunted loop.

though i know i’ve gotten over it,

i have no clue why it’s all repeating itself to me.




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