Summer I fell down across you all clumsy limbs and messy hair in our faces. You smelled like lemonade and sweat from all the running; running after my attention though it never mattered since I had already loved you since we met. Afternoons in a concrete utopia all wrapped up in each other. Hot mouths and bitter goodbyes ending with whispers held by desperation was our weekend. You were my imprecise summer of what would be something forever beautiful.

Fall was like me living through endless pages inked over with words of what life might have been. Letters upon letters mailed over miles of our eternity. Dark love shrouded behind secret pasts from when we were our own criminals. You blood on my papers, a token of your bleeding for my hurts. We were lovely weren’t we…

Winter I painted pictures over my past to hide winter’s scarred tattoos from all the painful memories. I was covering myself in pleads of acceptance from you and who we used to once upon a time. I feared your rejection like a bullet piercing my delicate heart from all our past turmoils. All I ever wanted was your friendship back…

Spring I refused love’s rigid warmth and instead turned to my body’s lack of order for comfort. Oh how determined I was for control to work past any problems all other seasons had left me. Something about that hunger deep inside me felt so welcoming by comparison to all other emotion of life. Looking back on it all I suppose it did fall into an ‘out of control’ section but all loves are addictions aren’t they?