---

You are a waste to be sad in summer,
You can't make a good job of what's in your head.
You are disgusting.
How to best describe the desperation
of believing lies
That you first told?
I guess I must have whispered them too often;
“It will get brighter with the weather,
It will get brighter with the weather...”

I swear I am getting weaker,
I swear I am slowing down.
You wallow.

And yet slowly evening draws in,
You watch as the dust settles.
Tremble with the relief of having outlived
The daylight once again.
Take pleasure where you can,
The sun may fight you all the harder the next time.

Breathe heavy the dusk air.

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