Summer Dreams: Part 1

Sometimes I feel like the summer wind,
blowing in
to your house
full of disrespect.
Blowing peacefully,
yet still disregarding your privacy.

This is not who I want to be.
So I tell stories
to make you try and like me.
I can't lie forever, but I'll try.
And when I'm gone, you wouldn't even cry.

Stories are stories are stories, even if not true.
If I really believe, I can tell them to you.
Finding secrets in graves, and branches, and streams;
The air screams out it's different furies on a stormy night.
Exhaustion....
Something we all feel.