04 September 2012

last of the last

I'm not ready for fall. even though this has been the hardest summer of my life. I'm not ready for late evening light to end, for the cicadas to stop with their singing. not ready to give up popsicles that melt and drip down the side of your arm and flowers that grow waist high and wild with color. I am the girl who doesn't want the party to end. 

I'm not ready to face the changes that lay ahead. unthinkable, unspeakable changes. I want to turn and run in the opposite direction, run until I can't anymore, til my lungs catch fire and my legs buckle. I'm not ready to say goodbye.