It's been full of healing from the stupid things I did in all the other months.
It's consisted of seeing family and waking up friends in the middle of the night only to say things like "I feel like a hurricane" and to have them reply "I know."
It's been emails that say things like "I don't know how I'm going to get through this" and to hear the soft spoken reply of "You can, and you will. You are strong and you are not broken."
It's writing a story about what it means to be human and writing letters that say things like "I can't do this, you need to tell me how to do this, I don't want to do this."
It's John Mayer and tea and dancing to the radio and lyrics scrawled onto the back of my hand in black blue ink.
August is the final song of summer and it's my heart learning to sing again, how to once again be that song bird that I used to be but was silenced.
It's counting down the days that have passed, and counting up the days until...
It's August and fall is hanging in the air, crisp and cool, and also summer is holding on with white knuckles.
I'm looking forward to fall and to boots and sweaters and senior year, and I'm looking back on this summer with nostalgia.
This is the in between time, the whispers between the roars, the spaces between each poetic verse.
This is August and it means healing, and finding faith I thought I'd lost and learning what it means to be tragically human.