This is written from Daehyun's perspective. Sorry for this mess<3

And I'm starting to forget

Just what summer ever meant to you

What did it ever mean to you?

You came to me and it was the fourth of july, you were holding the kind of cotton candy that came on those big sticks. It was pink and blue and purple like the colours I saw when you were near me. Your presence took me across dimensions, you were a limelight distracting me from blackness b against the stage when the curtains drew back to reveal nothingness.

You were escapism.

It was the fourth of july, and you grabbed me by my collar and kissed me sweet and hard and the cotton candy dissolved into liquid sugar across our colliding tongues and inside the blood pumping periodically from our hearts. You were against the wall and you were holding me like you were scared that I might leave. I was holding you like you were fragile and would break in my grasp. But your lips, your lips were so soft. They were enveloping feathers pressing against my own and I became weak in your presence.

You were heaven brushing my fingertips.

It was the fourth of july and your body was under mine, sinking into pillows and cloth and I pressed you into the cashmere of my couch and let my fingers roam your glowing skin as yours held the coarse ends of my hair and brought me closer to you. You tasted like caffeine so I made you some even though it was hot out and your shirt clung to your chest with thick sweat, we the fireplace and sipped creamy cocoa and pretended it was winter. I held you against me and your eyes were constellations that I could not connect. You reached to me and I ached for you even though I had you, right then. But with your legs tangled around my waist and my lips on your neck I didn’t know if you would be a stain or if you would be gone by tomorrow.

You were love when I needed it.

It was the fourth of july and I would never let you go. You were honey that soothed my heart and lullabies that purified the drums of my ears. I found a welcoming home in your embrace and returned your love with more. I was not trapped but you were the oxygen I never had time to breathe in prior to us meeting, a cocoon protectively enveloping around the bones of my chest and feeding them your sweet nectar. You were those blue apples hanging off of frozen trees on winter nights. You were the air I breathed after I inhaled you, you were fog misting the sky and tracing patterns into the stars like the organ drumming against the holes in my chest.

You were Versailles and I was a slave bound to you by the ivory whispers you spoke like river lights.

It was the fourth of july and we were never meant to have met, anything else is lies is lies. If my eyes were fated to glance over yours for the first time then the distance between us, unreachable due to the deep waters inhabiting it, would not be so painful.

And I had loved you too well.

It was the fourth of july and you and I were in the park and we’d bought a set of fireworks and you lit them and ran and ran and ran and you crashed into me and I caught you as though my body had curved itself into a hollow at birth that could only be filled with the soul of you. Grass stained our bare feet as fire shattered the sky to figments and colourful glass exploded in synchrony amongst blackness, fallen from the heavens for you.

And I had loved you too soon.

It was the fourth of july and you pressed your sweet lips against my cheek in a sloppy kiss, the air was humid as you grabbed my hand and held your small clammy palm against my own larger one and dragged me across the field. You tripped and fell and brought me with you. It was raining red and blue and violet, the colours casted over your delicate features and contrasted against the darkness as I leaned into you. We were stained green all over, dirt cracked into the pores of our skin as you held my hand and we lit another bomb.

And I had loved you in all the wrong places.

It was the fourth of july and the fireworks had gone off too soon, without warning and it burned. They were violent flames that engulfed our beings and I held you tight but you could not hear me. You held me tight but I could not hear you. The kaleidoscope of colours tore you away from me even though you reached for my warmth viciously, nails digging into my back and bleeding out my veins until I was hollow and dried of life and there was nothing left to hold onto, black blood vessels painting my decayed skin like the concrete waste of this earth. And as you left my soul was ripped out from my shell so harshly that my ribs broke apart to let my heart fall against the blood and ashes on the ground. I reached for it desperately but it refused to come back, dug itself underground and my hands rived the grassy hill but as the nights went by they became too numb and cold to continue to dig, so I stopped, left them in their beaten state with mud and blood dried like bruises in the denatured skin by my fingernails.

And you had loved me at all the wrong times.

It was the fourth of july and you were gone and I’ve stopped wondering why.