Black Sun, it is July.
Cicadas hummed away their short-lived summer and taught me to forget a song. I was taught to forget.
You made me so happy even that I don't know you. I never truly do.
But it's time to let go.
July signifies red brick walls and dying,
last year even the sky was red.
Things that burns gets dark at one point.
Black Sun, I am no longer retaining flames or sparks or heat or light in my existence.
I wanted to carry on this June but soon as I did, I realized everyone already has a life and I'm kinda hard with my lessons.
Tough luck.
I'm not in love with life I'm just full of it that I do not know where to pour it.
Black Sun.
I apologize.
