I'm begging for you to tell me

Tell me why I think Summer should be capitalised like a name, like a place, like a God.

Tell me why I think.

Tell me why I drop to my knees and crawl like a dog in the darkness looking for you when you're not there.

Tell me why spring comes and leaves the stain of bloodied knuckles and silver teeth on my silk slip dress. Tell me why I want it to.

Tell me why there's no foxes in Mexico and why there's no love in Salzburg.

Tell me something. Tell me anything.

Tell me if you think about me as much as you say you do.