Scattered

In July. The gym I go to is down the street. I like to wear those shoes. Shoes which are dying to run around. My birthday. It was horrible, I don’t know why. In July. All I have are July shoes. My May shoes were ruined in a muddy puddle. I drove my car back home. A stone in the gravel driveway. Gets flicked aside. All I have are my July keys. And my July groceries which are getting hot. In July. There’s not much to do except have a July day. With flowers, but they are summer flowers, not the first blooming, bustling flowers. I miss when it was May and we all fell over like a coffee mug. With just a little bit of coffee left. In July. I drink iced coffee only. Even though most places serve both hot and iced… I want to forget.