August

August does omit the same vibrancy as July

does not breathe the same lovely

refuses to entangle the world around heat and shared laughter

August reeks of empty goodbyes, 

of brokenness 

unfinished jigsaw pieces

of fleeting yesterdays, 

slipping out of my reach 

Uncapturable 

I want to enclose them in a timeless record 

replay it until the sound shatters
August indulges on lonely chess games
crafting different realities for each move I could had made
the mind is a dangerous trigger

August consists of reincarnating the past, 

performing autopsies on delicate moments, 

reliving what I should have said, should have done, 

August accepts logic over self-invented impossibilities

does not believe in returning to the moon 

August did not break me, 

I broke my own goddamn self.