as the summer approaches my mind gets more and more cold, chilly, shaking in the wind like the leaves that will shake sooner or later. we'll walk into a field with all the grass to feed a whole farm of cows. swarming with bees and swarming with deer chewing on the tips of the grass. the blue sky stretched on top of the field. the sunny horizon smiling at us as we enter the silence known as broken suicides. our eyes light up to see that we're holding hands. intertwined next to the seams of our holey jeans. our unshaved legs and our torn up shoes and our dirty bags so long almost touching the grass before our asses get the chance to. sitting indian style with a draft in my pants airing out my sweat in between my thighs my hair swaying in the wind. the water lillies sparkling and the slime from the frogs laying on top of the green, green leaves. put your chin up, you have dirt under there. dirty teenagers sitting in the silence feeling non-existant like. the summer approaches at high speed, burning the fuzz on my shoulder burning my retnas and burning the aglate on my shoelace. a perfectly good orange shoelace is now brown. the grass is creeping up to my ankles because it's starting to rain so the grass keeps growing. this field is speckled with memories people can't remember. not even paper. no trees. just leaves just me and you. bringing back our voices, forgetting the silence we laugh until we pee. you can't tell it's raining. the grass has reached our shoulders. now to our ears now to our heads now to our hair! we can't see anything except the corners of our eyes. we're laughing at the fact that our minds feel like they're floating high on acid. higher than the horizon that once smiled with. now the sky is laughing so hard it's crying. and so are we.