Summer's Lament

Spring failed to capture the feeling I was waiting on.

I had spent the winter in shambles, as all mentally ill people do,

with the expectation of Spring on the horizon to look forward to.

But now the summer heat is pressed against the dawn,

And I'm left waiting for the rest of this miserable year to be gone.

-

This morning I woke with my back to the door.

The sun came in through the window and assaulted my skin,

It ran a ray like a hand, down my flesh, heavy as sin.

I hadn't yet dusted the fan or done any other pre-summer chores,

So I stunk early with sweat seeping out of my pores.

-

I went to work, dipping in and out of the shade.

Counting my steps, I wish away the unbearable heat,

that seems to claw its way up to my neck from my feet.

My body buckles, but I cannot bear to become this season's prey,

As even the breeze is too afraid to sway.

-

Spring failed to sing her song.

Persephone did not come along her train and deliver us the flowers,

I had waited for all those frigid winter hours.

It stings to bid her so long,

And learn that putting my health in her hands was all wrong.