Im in Mississippi in July. Thats when we have the family reunion. Thats when we shoot fireworks. Last July, I was in Tennessee. July is a hot month. I like cookouts when it’s July. My cousin was born in July.
Avery looked to her left, silently judging her sister’s new girlfriend, who was obviously as gay as the Fourth of July. Well, at least she wasn’t saying it out loud; judging people is fun.
The fouth of july has always been an interesting holiday. my heart has been broken, and made on this day. but yet its not a day that even relates to me or my life. atleast not directly. My future isnt in july, but there are plent of July’s in my future.
It was late at night, full of biting insects and summer humidity. A meeting condoned by no one, we giddily hid under the bridge with our backs to the crowd, waiting for the main event to start. You pointed out constellations, showing me hazy July stars worth every mosquito bite. I still can identify them to this day.
In July, I met Andy. He told me he was from Africa, and that he’d come here to meet family. But I never saw him with anyone that seemed like any sort of family. That July, I met the boy who would change my life forever. Andy, I would discover, didn’t have a family, but he had a willing, open, heart.
July is the 7th month in the year. It is usually the most hot in New York. Kids don’t have school and have time to relax in the sun. They enjoy going to the beach and playing in the sand and water. Many people like summer because it is a pleasant time of the year but others prefer winter. July.
July was rushing by, and I didn’t want it to end. The sun,
the warmth… I wanted it to last forever. The middle of summer. A
month since school ended, a month ’til it would begin. The
middle.
July has been weird for me these past two years. July 2011 was vacation. I contemplated and became very close to attempting suicide. I was starving myself, throwing up and hurting myself. I kept it all inside. I was a skeleton dying on the inside and starting to die on the inside too. July 2012 was also vacation. This time anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder, suicide, self harm and depression were out in the open. Many relapses had occurred. I was still not stable. But I was trying. That was something. But here I am. December 2012. Over a year since cutting began, almost two years since the eating disorders came along, the major of my life since self harm came along. And I’m starting to finally put my eyes in the right place. I’m starting to become the person that I’ve truly wanted to be all along. I’ve got some scars. On my arms, hips, legs and heart. I’ve got some memories. I’ve got a story. A never ending story that eventually will make me stronger and shape me.
July has never meant much to me
You always get a little older
And I am never there with you
July is just a passerby
That whispers to me what I am missing
It tells me of what I have lost
What I have yet to do
And of the hardship ahead
It drips down my spine
Oh, July
Her name was July, she was as refreshing to be around as the month her name represents. Her hair was the dried, shining golden of a wheat field. Her lips as red as the cherry on top of a sundae. Her eyes as bright and blue as the summer sky. Her voice was as though a gentle breeze flowing through the battered trees of the summer season. She was the ideal beauty and represented her name well.
my birthday is in july and so is my mothers and kyle and andy. A summer month tat has beautifully hot days in texas but i’m sure it is comfortable in other places. A great time to go swimming and have summer fun at the beach during a sunny day.
flowers in the sun. The swaying breeze gently touches me. It is a happy time of freedom and relief. Yet sadness is coming. It can not last forever. that is how it must be. What would joy be without sorrow? How could we enjoy the happy if we never knew what it was like to cry. July is happy. July is warm. But July will only be momentary.
I like July because it’s too far away from the end of the
last school year to not feel like summer and too far away from the
beginning of the next year to be panicking yet about
procrastinating on my homework.
I loved him in july.
I fell hard and fast.
but then he got cold.
just like the seasons
and his love chilled
and he fell in love with
September.
someone the complete
polar of me.
July is a month. I’m sure we all know that. In Chinese it’s pronounced qi yue. July is in the summer. It is hot, especially in the land of the sunshine (also known as Florida). The best thing about July is, for me, the start of marching band. Why is that so exciting? It is because marching band is the best thing in my otherwise incredibly boring and mundane life. Why is that? I don’t know. Marching band is more than the sum of its parts.
I am wishing to go back the days when the sun stained the earth, the days where there was warmth and laziness and an abundance of time. I could sit in the glistening grass with unguarded toes, the tips of the blades tickling my skin. I could daydream in a hammock, only wearing shorts and a tank, thinking of things beyond summer days. I could paint, I could dance and I could write. I could create. With no drama or work or stress, I would have time for these things. Just if.
july july
lots of time has passed by
sitting in my room
teeth unbrushed, messy buns
writing poetry on my bed
can’t defeat the heat
a happy time,
now the best thing i’v had
has gone away
The July Revolution was in full swing. Louis looked up to the angry face of his father, starved of freedom. The cry of the citizens arose, and the new era had begun. That’s what July is for. New eras. But they always, always end up the same as they did before. It’s like a midway new-year’s resolution.
It’s warm and hot. Full of wonderful joy and sunshine. Family and fireworks…it’s truly wonderful! One can enjoy camping and watermelon, fishing and hiking, and just friends and family. It’s summer time!!
Not much happens in July. IIt holds half of the semester break, Sarah’s Birthday and that’s about it. But as June was coming to a close, I knew that something else was in the air; something new and unfamiliar.
fireworks, BBQ, horses, happiness, sweat, family, comfort. I was happy. Young. Fearless. nothing could get better. It was my prime time. No anger. No deception. Just pure, innocence. I thought I knew but now I really know.
warm lazy days and long days, sitting on porch, listening to kids playing. long walks and mosquito bites…barbeques, swimming pools, walking out the door with no coat, breathing warm air, sleeping with windows open and curtains gently moving with the breeze, listening to crickets and Canada Day celebrations and holidays to great places.
July is when I got my first sister.
I remember very clearly sitting in a parked car outside of St Joe’s and my dad turning to me an saying
“what should we name your sister?”
She was baby nitska for three weeks
Mom always said never have a second child always go directly to the third.
she ties her hair loosely
slips on the apron
with pale pink stripes
waxing under a sunshower of paint
the morning light shows her cheekbones
brightens the stacked paper
under her long hand
she leans on it, splayed like a pianist
finding an edge with a steel rule
tearing quickly with her right hand
a pile of curled strips beside her
she works never glancing away
drinks tea from a tea cup
without looking until
the manuscript leaves are done.
I look at the birds nest of curled white
at the end of the long-table
tangled whites of bent light
bobbing like fronds
in a breeze that crosses the room
she stands to stretch and I
take in her movement
she returns to the studio floor
kneeling, working across
the manuscript cover
kneading glue into cloth
long fingers alive in the task
feeling warp, weft
in her body
she stands, sips hot tea
the porcelain rim soft on her lip
the back to the saucer
nestled under the cluster of jars
stuffed with brushes, paints,
hand tools and turpentine
july, oh that day in july
five days past fourteen
took a look at you and felt like I’d
been living under a rock for the
short time i’d been alive
how naive, how childish,
how unbearably young I was
never thought a boy could
turn me inside out like that
never thought a shallow attraction
would bloom into such a worrisome
disaster.
Oh, I wish it was July. The days that the warm sun would brush our cheeks, the grass would tickle our toes, and the days I realized you. July 23. That’s the day that I noticed my annoying best friend would soon be my boyfriend.
july, the month that settles in on a hot summer breeze. the
month in which our founding fathers declared our independence. the
month right before school starts. the month that it all began. you
and me, we blew in with that breeze as well, and only today can i
tell you everything that i wanted to then.
July. the month of celebration and heat waves. Other than the fact i hat them both, its actually pretty bearable. at least in my opinion, i dont care about yours. why would i? the lie i tell myself is your opinion means nothing to me, so take a Popsicle you eat in july and shove it.
Outside the museum you waited behind a column so you could
escape just in case Inside you touched my knees warm hands as we
said goodbye you squared me off holding my shoulders eye to eye
serious earnest
fireworks and you kiss me on red and white checkered cloths with the flag beating alongside us kiss and passion. i feel the fourth every time i smell bar b q food, i sense your prescence every time the snap and crack of life pulls me under.
My birth-month. Summer. Peace. Bike rides and running every day, only because I feel like it and want to hear my feet pound the pavement, feel my heart beat out of control. Swimming across the lake because I can. A book a day. Time to myself. Time that ran out all too fast.
I think everyday that you are expected to accomplish something, it is the day that always pushes you not to lose yourself. There was a long period when I felt anything but confused, frustrated and angry because some things just did not make sense and perhaps they were not really my fault.
It was July. I hated summer beyond any of the other seasons. Why? Don’t fucking ask me why. All I knew was, it was July, I was lonely, and I was certainly not having any fun.
Im in Mississippi in July. Thats when we have the family reunion. Thats when we shoot fireworks. Last July, I was in Tennessee. July is a hot month. I like cookouts when it’s July. My cousin was born in July.
Avery looked to her left, silently judging her sister’s new girlfriend, who was obviously as gay as the Fourth of July. Well, at least she wasn’t saying it out loud; judging people is fun.
July is a month for sunbathing and apples. The sky is blue like necklace-sparkles and eyes. The sun envelops you in over-warmth.
The fouth of july has always been an interesting holiday. my heart has been broken, and made on this day. but yet its not a day that even relates to me or my life. atleast not directly. My future isnt in july, but there are plent of July’s in my future.
It was late at night, full of biting insects and summer humidity. A meeting condoned by no one, we giddily hid under the bridge with our backs to the crowd, waiting for the main event to start. You pointed out constellations, showing me hazy July stars worth every mosquito bite. I still can identify them to this day.
Word Chain July. A wonderful time. A hot time. Summer. Fireworks. Heat. Sun. Water. Warmth. Beach. Sand. Pool. Waves. Whales. Floaties. Teeth. Shiny. Gold. Metal. Precious. Pearl. JULY?
In July, I met Andy. He told me he was from Africa, and that he’d come here to meet family. But I never saw him with anyone that seemed like any sort of family. That July, I met the boy who would change my life forever. Andy, I would discover, didn’t have a family, but he had a willing, open, heart.
July is the 7th month in the year. It is usually the most hot in New York. Kids don’t have school and have time to relax in the sun. They enjoy going to the beach and playing in the sand and water. Many people like summer because it is a pleasant time of the year but others prefer winter. July.
An aesthetically beautiful month, but mine are filled with regrets. I can’t go back. Summer hasn’t been a time to look forward too in a while.
July was rushing by, and I didn’t want it to end. The sun,
the warmth… I wanted it to last forever. The middle of summer. A
month since school ended, a month ’til it would begin. The
middle.
July has been weird for me these past two years. July 2011 was vacation. I contemplated and became very close to attempting suicide. I was starving myself, throwing up and hurting myself. I kept it all inside. I was a skeleton dying on the inside and starting to die on the inside too. July 2012 was also vacation. This time anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder, suicide, self harm and depression were out in the open. Many relapses had occurred. I was still not stable. But I was trying. That was something. But here I am. December 2012. Over a year since cutting began, almost two years since the eating disorders came along, the major of my life since self harm came along. And I’m starting to finally put my eyes in the right place. I’m starting to become the person that I’ve truly wanted to be all along. I’ve got some scars. On my arms, hips, legs and heart. I’ve got some memories. I’ve got a story. A never ending story that eventually will make me stronger and shape me.
July has never meant much to me
You always get a little older
And I am never there with you
July is just a passerby
That whispers to me what I am missing
It tells me of what I have lost
What I have yet to do
And of the hardship ahead
It drips down my spine
Oh, July
Her name was July, she was as refreshing to be around as the month her name represents. Her hair was the dried, shining golden of a wheat field. Her lips as red as the cherry on top of a sundae. Her eyes as bright and blue as the summer sky. Her voice was as though a gentle breeze flowing through the battered trees of the summer season. She was the ideal beauty and represented her name well.
July. Summer. So many memories. I miss him. Oh July, how I miss you too, because with you, I was happy. If I could only go back to you, and him.
Two of my cousins were born in July, the 4th and the 5th.
July seems no different. It’s the same thing day in and day out. Still have to work and I miss most the sun. Working underground is not that much fun.
my birthday is in july and so is my mothers and kyle and andy. A summer month tat has beautifully hot days in texas but i’m sure it is comfortable in other places. A great time to go swimming and have summer fun at the beach during a sunny day.
a month’s name . after june before august. 4 word.
someone’s birthday
flowers in the sun. The swaying breeze gently touches me. It is a happy time of freedom and relief. Yet sadness is coming. It can not last forever. that is how it must be. What would joy be without sorrow? How could we enjoy the happy if we never knew what it was like to cry. July is happy. July is warm. But July will only be momentary.
I like July because it’s too far away from the end of the
last school year to not feel like summer and too far away from the
beginning of the next year to be panicking yet about
procrastinating on my homework.
I loved him in july.
I fell hard and fast.
but then he got cold.
just like the seasons
and his love chilled
and he fell in love with
September.
someone the complete
polar of me.
come next summer,
love me
and don’t leave.
July is a month. I’m sure we all know that. In Chinese it’s pronounced qi yue. July is in the summer. It is hot, especially in the land of the sunshine (also known as Florida). The best thing about July is, for me, the start of marching band. Why is that so exciting? It is because marching band is the best thing in my otherwise incredibly boring and mundane life. Why is that? I don’t know. Marching band is more than the sum of its parts.
I am wishing to go back the days when the sun stained the earth, the days where there was warmth and laziness and an abundance of time. I could sit in the glistening grass with unguarded toes, the tips of the blades tickling my skin. I could daydream in a hammock, only wearing shorts and a tank, thinking of things beyond summer days. I could paint, I could dance and I could write. I could create. With no drama or work or stress, I would have time for these things. Just if.
july july
lots of time has passed by
sitting in my room
teeth unbrushed, messy buns
writing poetry on my bed
can’t defeat the heat
a happy time,
now the best thing i’v had
has gone away
The July Revolution was in full swing. Louis looked up to the angry face of his father, starved of freedom. The cry of the citizens arose, and the new era had begun. That’s what July is for. New eras. But they always, always end up the same as they did before. It’s like a midway new-year’s resolution.
It’s warm and hot. Full of wonderful joy and sunshine. Family and fireworks…it’s truly wonderful! One can enjoy camping and watermelon, fishing and hiking, and just friends and family. It’s summer time!!
Not much happens in July. IIt holds half of the semester break, Sarah’s Birthday and that’s about it. But as June was coming to a close, I knew that something else was in the air; something new and unfamiliar.
fireworks, BBQ, horses, happiness, sweat, family, comfort. I was happy. Young. Fearless. nothing could get better. It was my prime time. No anger. No deception. Just pure, innocence. I thought I knew but now I really know.
warm lazy days and long days, sitting on porch, listening to kids playing. long walks and mosquito bites…barbeques, swimming pools, walking out the door with no coat, breathing warm air, sleeping with windows open and curtains gently moving with the breeze, listening to crickets and Canada Day celebrations and holidays to great places.
July is when I got my first sister.
I remember very clearly sitting in a parked car outside of St Joe’s and my dad turning to me an saying
“what should we name your sister?”
She was baby nitska for three weeks
Mom always said never have a second child always go directly to the third.
she ties her hair loosely
slips on the apron
with pale pink stripes
waxing under a sunshower of paint
the morning light shows her cheekbones
brightens the stacked paper
under her long hand
she leans on it, splayed like a pianist
finding an edge with a steel rule
tearing quickly with her right hand
a pile of curled strips beside her
she works never glancing away
drinks tea from a tea cup
without looking until
the manuscript leaves are done.
I look at the birds nest of curled white
at the end of the long-table
tangled whites of bent light
bobbing like fronds
in a breeze that crosses the room
she stands to stretch and I
take in her movement
she returns to the studio floor
kneeling, working across
the manuscript cover
kneading glue into cloth
long fingers alive in the task
feeling warp, weft
in her body
she stands, sips hot tea
the porcelain rim soft on her lip
the back to the saucer
nestled under the cluster of jars
stuffed with brushes, paints,
hand tools and turpentine
july, oh that day in july
five days past fourteen
took a look at you and felt like I’d
been living under a rock for the
short time i’d been alive
how naive, how childish,
how unbearably young I was
never thought a boy could
turn me inside out like that
never thought a shallow attraction
would bloom into such a worrisome
disaster.
Oh, I wish it was July. The days that the warm sun would brush our cheeks, the grass would tickle our toes, and the days I realized you. July 23. That’s the day that I noticed my annoying best friend would soon be my boyfriend.
july, the month that settles in on a hot summer breeze. the
month in which our founding fathers declared our independence. the
month right before school starts. the month that it all began. you
and me, we blew in with that breeze as well, and only today can i
tell you everything that i wanted to then.
July. the month of celebration and heat waves. Other than the fact i hat them both, its actually pretty bearable. at least in my opinion, i dont care about yours. why would i? the lie i tell myself is your opinion means nothing to me, so take a Popsicle you eat in july and shove it.
Outside the museum you waited behind a column so you could
escape just in case Inside you touched my knees warm hands as we
said goodbye you squared me off holding my shoulders eye to eye
serious earnest
fireworks and you kiss me on red and white checkered cloths with the flag beating alongside us kiss and passion. i feel the fourth every time i smell bar b q food, i sense your prescence every time the snap and crack of life pulls me under.
My birth-month. Summer. Peace. Bike rides and running every day, only because I feel like it and want to hear my feet pound the pavement, feel my heart beat out of control. Swimming across the lake because I can. A book a day. Time to myself. Time that ran out all too fast.
I think everyday that you are expected to accomplish something, it is the day that always pushes you not to lose yourself. There was a long period when I felt anything but confused, frustrated and angry because some things just did not make sense and perhaps they were not really my fault.
It was July. I hated summer beyond any of the other seasons. Why? Don’t fucking ask me why. All I knew was, it was July, I was lonely, and I was certainly not having any fun.