ghost

i lay in the grass next to a ghost and there are bugs everywhere and the grass is tall and i am itchy because i am allergic to grass and allergic to the way your eyes used to look at me and i wish there was some sort of medicine, some sort of cure for this, but i know that just like tree pollen, i can't avoid you forever

september air has always been my favourite because you can smell the changes. you can smell backyard fires in suburban neighbourhoods and you can smell the fading summer heat and you can smell the flowers dying; like i watched what we had dying

thats just the nature of being a ghost.

i can't explain it any other way.