quiet summer

summer was a loud season,
with joyous screams and laughter
from adventures at the beach
and shenanigans with friends.

 

summer was a loud season
with bugs buzzing as they flew by,
making us irate and itchy
as we swat the air around us.

 

summer was a loud season,
with music blasting from shitty phone speakers
and notes sung by our pitchy voices,
always followed with smiles and teasing.

 

summer was a fun season,
once my favorite season,
but nothing ever stays the same
and my love has faded away.

 

summer became too hot for comfort,
too social of an event,
too boring to do anything,
too loud.

 

summer became a season of sadness for me.
locked away in my room with the fan turned on,
refusing to see others unless I absolutely had to,
I avoided everyone and I avoided summer.

 

simply put, I was tired of summer -
I prefered the quiet, the cold, the comfort of home.
I had grown too old to have fun in the summer,
had put aside my childish desires for noisy, outdoor fun.

 

summer's loud and lively voice had died down into silence -
and I had been the one to kill it.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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