When I was young I hated the summer

Sweat, tight clothes, overflowing out of stiff shorts

Sucking in, holding my breath

Standing up stiff and straight- I couldn't wait to be underwater

Where no one could see me

I would dash for my towel

and wrap it around myself; my security blanket

Watching my thighs jiggle as I walked

I wanted nothing more than to hide beneath layers of cloth

I hated the summer almost as much as I hated myself


Now it is spring

Today I felt the first hints of warmth reaching down onto my shoulders

Gentle rays that threatened to disapear with my every motion

This summers sun will be the same sun that made me a shadow years ago

And yet today it feels different; this sun is not cruel

This sun doesn't mock me and lock me away in my room

This sun welcomes me outside to cool grass, soothing waters, sweet summer fruits

This sun is kinder to me

Or maybe I am


This poem is about: 


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. 

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