Summer and other scams

summer is a reaper; a thief; a vulture. cupid with drunken, skewed judgment and rubber arrows; you have a hard shell and I sleep on my back, unguarded. he took my whole heart and folded your fingers over it, ushered you out the back door. time and gold run in my veins, and it bled through your fingers as you boarded your plane.
summer and you conspired against me, but you fucked up the entire plan when you forgot it. my heart now stands waist-deep and proud in a riverbed on the half of the world that will never see, and you think it is still in some hidden fold of your suitcase. summer took it out on both of us. autumn didn't pull into this corner of the world until October, but cupid started
sobering up long ago, and I suffer at his hands now.
I'm going to bury your name under a fistful of bad metaphors because I'm terrified of you finding out that this is about you. I can't have you know I care so much if you don't.
I'm terrified because when summer stole my heart, stripped me to my bones, and left them out in the sun to bleach, I was awake and I let him. because I would
do anything for you. summer was the one who fucked up the plan; summer has so much to answer for, and no matter how much the sun shines on you, you are
the only one in the dark. I was in on your crime and you weren't.
I'm terrified because the last thing I want to think is that I put my heart in the hands of someone who dropped it into a fucking river and didn't realize. I'm terrified because I know that if summer wasn't a
sadistic meddler, 4 months ago you wouldn't have done this. I'm terrified because I don't know if soused cupid is to blame for this failed heist, or if I simply
stopped being good enough.