Summer and Fire

Heat. I love it.

Heat. Does it love me?

Dehydration, sunurns galore. It hurts.

Sun, bright, burns out my eyes. Why,

do I sit in it, do I fight for it, do I wish it into existence.

For summer fun?

Lights. Bright, burn out my eyes. Why,

above my head, behind me, to the side everywhere!

They make me move in strange ways make a strange face,

say words that aren't mine, vocalize what is in my eyes.

A me that is not me and a me ocean deep.

A me in the heat, of the moment, of the sun.

A me in the lights, of my life, of the stage.

It hurts, I love it, It's beauty and pain. It's feeling

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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