“On rainy mornings I vaguely remember waking up next to you and how you smell like warm coffee on Sundays that reminded me how much I got myself addicted with caffeine, I remember how your hair falls in the side of your neck beside your birthmark who you never were fond of; but I tell you how it’s shaped like Europe and how you make me feel like skipping countries in less than six seconds. You laugh at me and tell me how much of a contradiction you are and I tell you how I always appreciated antithesis. You flutter your eyes and I drown in them and I never would have thought by then that the idea of drowning was this beautiful, You smile and I forget the fact that it was raining because the very sun had been brought out of the horizon infront of me – I tell you i love you and you tell me to go back to sleep.

And on the twelfth morning when I only have half a brain and I don’t get to wake up next to you, I get dragged by menthol and fresh air and I lose myself in the smell of nicotine. I’d detest the birthmark in the side of your neck and think of many ways how it awfully looks like a scar, I tune out the sound of your laugh and reverse all of my verses. I’d think about your eyes and see all of the blue that suffocates my lungs. And it is still raining and I still have half a brain, and yet i’m still spending this half thinking of you.”

— things that reminds me of july

[Disclaimer: Photo not mine]

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