It's Only Love

Have you ever been so wrapped up in imaginary things,

That you swore them to be real?

Not like in "Where The Wild Things Are" or anything,

But.

Right now,

Someone's got their air conditioner running,

And all the windows are open,

And for a little while, I pretended like it was still summer.

I rewound back to July, and I stayed there.

And it's such a lovely illusion,

That it must be real, right?

Maybe if I lived in the twilight zone,

This could be real.

Something about right now,

The fact that it's warm,

And everything is so...

Clean-feeling,

Not hospital-clean,

Just.

Clean,

Makes things seem good.

Well.

Alright.

Fine.

Just peachy.

It isn't fantastic,

That term is reserved,

But it's just fine.

And nothing beats contentedness,

Am I right?

I think I went a little crazy with my paint colors.

I have bag full.

And they're all so pretty.

I'm not quite sure what to say right now.

Now.

Not later,

But here, in the present

Where I am being content.

Where things are peachy keen.

Come to think of it,

Yes.

It is a little,

"Where The Wild Things Are"-esque

Right now.

That movie was a little bit sadder than I thought it would be,

But.

It's cute.

And the music is cute.

And things just feel a little cute.

One of my friends made this comment today,

It was small,

But she said, "You guys talk a lot, does he drive you home?"

And that thought made me want to giggle,

Because if he did,

That would be so awkward and yet, very perfect.

But of course, tis not the case.

But that's alright.

Goodnight,

Hope it feels like summer wherever you are, too.

:D