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Summer Nights
summer nights are to die for.
golden skies, and the heat caressing your skin.
like a blanket, soft and gentle.
beautiful.
saturated skies, and the melancholic rain.
silence, but you hear the light drops outside the louvered window.
enough light to mask your room, water withering over your face.
the cool wind blows your hair and covers your eyes.
subtle peace.
but the chambers keep banging.
you think about it a lot.
when you’re sitting in your room.
listening to music that hurts but liberates you.
clears your thoughts that cut deep.
because you can’t put a bandaid over a bullet wound.
it’s all background noise to you.
in one ear, out the other.
voice sweeter than honey, eyes bigger than the sun.
you don’t listen, you watch.
the orchestra plays in your head.
the dreams you make up seem so real.
if there was a way to see the future.
because the present is a cage.
the future is freedom.
you love her so much.
because it liberates you.
heart beats faster than your head thinks.
trips down memory lane, but you get lost.
fire burning deep inside, falling from the sky.
it’s a natural high.
the word ‘no’ has so much meaning.
clears your thoughts that cut deep.
because you can’t control the fire.
she loves me. she loves me not.
what a waste of petals.
she loves me.
what a waste of time.
she loves me not.
what a waste of tears.
she loves me.
what a waste of pills.
she loves me not.
what a waste of dreams.
she loves me.
what a waste of life.
she loves me not.
the linen against your skin feels tight.
it hurts.
kills.
summer nights are to die for.
the chills run down your spine.
because you have to think.
give up?
you lose what you have.
give in?
You lose what you have.
if she means everything then everything is gone.
if she means happiness then there is none left.
she loves me.
she loves me not.
she said goodbye.
the book is on fire.
and you haven’t read through the pages.
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My name is Pranav and I am a freshman at Shrewsbury High School. For me, poetry is a way to liberate myself from all the societal pressures. As teens, we generally look into ourselves too much by criticizing every action and moment we live in. I write poems in order to examine myself at times through stories of love, depression, and happiness.
This specific poem addresses how oftentimes, teens can express their feelings for certain people–however, we hit a reality known as rejection which is hard to get by.
This poem truly shows how love is born, and how it can eventually run out.