They say it's hot
A burning sensation
A leftover dream
I'm still dreaming
Caught in this anger like hell
But I don't feel the same anymore
Summer isn't sweet like those pies my mom would make
I'd often remember the porch outside being my only venue
Cloaked by swallow skies
There was a certain lust that haunted the streets
An a fantasy that a fourteen year old me couldn't help but wonder
I miss those sunny days
I swear it could have rained on me
I'd like to be there one more time...
