by Poetically Yours, Chesca
I’ve always had summers that were made out of poetry.
the ones when I was a little girl and he was a little boy
and we would tackle each other in video games
and hide under the covers when it was over.
the ones when we grew up and I fell in love.
the ones when we grew up
and we grew apart.
there were summers that went by like my alarm clock.
the ones where I was peaceful in pure bliss because I felt like I was dreaming.
the summers that ticked tocked fast
and when the time was up
a continuous buzzing would come off
and those summers would be over.
it always happened,
but I always hoped the summer magic didn’t have to be over too.
there were summers when I was an exotic pink flower
and all the bees would flock towards me because they wanted to be my friend.
I guess those friends left when the pollination was over
but that’s okay.
I wasn’t the only exotic flower in the field anyway.
despite the happiness, love, magic, and heartbreak
I experienced a different kind of poem with you.
it was the kind where we spent late nights in a cozy coffee shop
and it was there where I got to see more clearly the word “art” in this place earth when I was having deep conversations with you.
it was the kind where we could find small corners
in a busy, stress-filled place
to spread our legs out
and rest our heads down on our backpacks
because all that dead-weight we carried behind us was above us now
when we were alone in our secret safe space.
I have to admit, I didn’t need cozy coffee shops and small corners to feel safe
because we could be fast-pacing through pouring drizzle and almost thunderstorms and I would still feel okay.
I cannot fully explain how the connection we have assures my safety
but I didn’t need anything tangible.
you are my own secret safe space.
there is something about this summer that didn’t make me worry about falling in love
or losing a friend
or the magic having to be over.
it is a strange kind of forever –
one where I could shut my eyes, dream, and wake up
and it didn’t end when my eyes blinked open.
instead, the magic in my mind was captured
and it radiated into the good parts of my own reality.
I used to believe that sad girls wrote best
and that the best heart-felt poetry
were the ones that cried out of heartbreak.
I know now that the best heart-felt poetry aren’t always the ones about being sad and anxious and lonely;
they are the ones where I felt deeply.
I no longer wrote summer like a farewell letter or a breakup text message.
I wrote it as if the rainbow was the ink in my pen
and reading it made you feel good.
and the words weren’t sad.
and it was beautiful.
every summer became another sad poem,
but this summer was spent with you.
so thank you.