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I was fourteen. July was hot, sticking to my skin like a melting popsicle.

If you looked into my eyes, you would have seen the reflection of fireworks.

I began to dream of a life I convinced myself I would never attain, arguing with my own mind on a daily basis.

I built of fence while salt burned my red skin, burned my red eyes.

Floyd echoed in the garage housing my thoughts.

Braided dreams of a future to come haunted me, making me do things I never thought I would.

Nails black with bruises, death filled my ears.

Naught; more than a year went by. Nothing changed, but everything was different.

My heart ached and pounded with the simple thought of your name.

And July came once more.

I watched the one I loved tell another he loved her.

Selling myself to the night, living half conscious of my bleak reality; oddly unfazed by sobriety's knowing thought.

Stumbling, lighting bowls on fire, watching the sky burn with everything I wanted. Right there in front of me.

I left for something innocent.

It was new, nothing like what I imagined life to be in Oregon.

Sixteen came in with a bang and left with an even bigger one.

Skipping through summer, breaking me down to the core.

July seemed to be the only month consistently making everything more curious.

I drown in the only place that brought me a serene sense of comfort, while contents of bottles unknown helped me through the nights I couldn't bear to sleep.

The bridge looked intimidating, something I'd never consider even as I watched him jump, ignoring the girl he said he loved; crying in front of him.

Timid and small, he left me struggling with his thoughts.

Not a runner in the world could have caught that empty gaze, so I don't blame myself anymore.

He glided by like we were strangers, like a simple hello wasn't something he could fathom. Like he hadn't just whispered love in my ear, kissing me gently in my room.

Like a simple hello wasn't something I deserved prior to the road we just tumbled through.

Without a care in the world he threw everything we'd worked for, everything I loved off that damned bridge.

And seventeen came anyway.