the scent of summer in the air

is a lonely freedom

that can never be shared

you stand there, watching the people pass

moving the world in a single step

while you can’t even make the seconds last

it’s strange, is it not?

to see everybody move like they know what to do

when deep in your heart

you know it’s not true

that’s what summer is meant to be

lonely freedom, melancholy deception

thinking to yourself, this autonomy has been fooling me

an

e

n

d

l

e

s

s,

muted,

deep, sea-dark perception

where they are all constantly striving to do more,

be more

but what is that more? striving for what, in what direction?

being who? ourselves, someone else, a person we were once before?

perhaps the answer will never come

because you are trapped, watching people pass

moving the world in a single step

while you can’t even make the seconds last

in this season of lonely freedom