T'was the the summer of watermelons,
Refreshing and sweet.
I watch as the drop of juice dribbles down his chin.
My little sister manages a whole three slices.
I flashback to May.
The desire to have a commitment that summer.
Something that relied on me.
The seeds rattled in their pack along with the sound of my foot steps.
They rattled with me the entire summer.
Frequent trips to an ice cream stand.
Lagging behind my siblings, I would always order the same: last and watermelon sherbert.
My family laughs on the picnic bench as I quietly sit, licking away on my watermelon cone.
I lick away, hoping the watermelon will fill that hole in my heart.
I drag that watering can to them eveyday.
My watermelon progress faster than anything else in my life.
I name the first one Phoebe.
My first friend in the midst of an ostrasized summer.
The summer heat warps me to the fair.
Tiny bottles placed like dominos.
All it takes is someone to knock out one, and the rest follow.
Each is filled with a different scent.
My eyes fly to the one I take home.
Each day I spray the watermelon scent all over, pretending to be something I'm not.
I may be fake, but my watermelon are real.
They taste real in mouth, a rewarding experience that also marks the end of my summer.
T'was a summer of watermelons, refreshing and sweet.