Next July

My summer friend,

I loved you once.

But it’s been a while now,

the times have changed and I’ve changed with it.

So have you.

I wish I cared enough,

to figure you out.

You truly are a puzzle.

But are you really?

Or is it just me,

has it always been just me?

Why don’t I trust a thing you say?

I’ll ask you when I see you,

when I see you next July.