Four months

I carried you forever in the darkest pit of mind,
I made you mine forever, not knowing what to find.
The loneliest November gave me fear to back me up.
I fall and end up empty; I’m running out of luck.

The coldest of Decembers brought icicles of tears.
They fell and crashed to pieces; they do this every year.
At first I was thinking this is how it’s meant to be
But then I got the notion, perhaps it’s only me.

In January, as always, the year began anew
I realized at that time it was all because of you.
Making you a part of me was a mistake from first to last,
The Russian Roulette had started; the dice had all been cast.

Breathing slowly, carefully, as if not to upset a thing
I lie on the floor in pieces, under February’s wing.
I’m broken, shattered, and somehow quite all apart
And then the sounds all stop, and so does the beating of my heart.

The sun is shining longer, here above the earth
In March it seems like everyone rejoices in rebirth.
The buds are bursting open, closing up the wounds
of the painful winter sorrow, shutting out its gloom.