the weather
has adopted an
air of confusion
as it feels cooler
than it actually
managed to be
a subtle psychosis
as the year nears
its grand finale
and a fool sits
exhausted yet
enthusiastic
over what’s to
come in the future

which feels almost
as confusing as
the cool breeze
on a warm afternoon

i become so
melancholic as my
date of birth
rapidly approaches
nostalgic for a
life i never had
a home which wasn’t
in another state of
semipseudoexisting
where the seasons
actually change
rather than this
nonchalant feigning
summer ever truly
becomes autumn