67

With him below me, pulling my feet to the ground;
Yet with you above me, trying to pull me skybound;
Who shall I put my faith in?

66

And so here is July.

When the glistening sun reflects our pain and replaces it with warmth.
Where the trees listen not to tales of woe but only to joy and laughter.
When the children laugh and run and play without a care in the world!
Where the women dress daringly to show off what they've got to offer.
When the men play sports and work hard to prove their masculinity.

Not me.

All I want to do is write.
That doesn't make sense to you.

All I want to do is read.
I will not follow the crowd for you.

All I want to do is breathe.
Just stand back and let me breathe.

All I want to do is listen.
Your voice isn't music to my ears.

All I want to do is type.
The world will move on regardless.

All I want to do is run.
This town isn't ready for me now.

All I want to do is scream.
But I don't want you to hear me.

All I want to do is sleep.
Because I don't want to ruin your July.