This Year Has Been A Hell Of A Long Morning

I'd hate to say I hate

July

Without a reason why,

But if its reason enough:

I hate it's morning sky,

Sun Burning through my blinds,

Burning on my skin, like that fire

Of yours that i couldnt help

But ignite.

Summer would come,

As it still comes now,

Dressed in only frail bones,

Wrapped in Vanity's flesh- White

As the A.M glow that 

Turned our nightly wrongs

Into Daylight,

White as the lies born on Winter

Dancefloors- bound up and waiting 

To be clarified...

White and blinding as the smoke

L.A's drenched in from 

Holiday Fires, White as The Ghost That Haunts your mind ever Since i died,

Dead to you and left behind

In the white sands of July.

I'd hate to say i hate July

Without a reason why.