If April is the cruelest month,
then why was December so hard?

One will die
The other will flee

This is an emotionally
expensive dynamic

How can April be so bad
when August is forever ruined?

Disappointment and blood
Both spilled from me uncontrollably

One will live
To remind the other

I almost died
I almost did.

April was actually relatively kind
As heat and tulips rearranged realities

So let the lilacs!
The memories –

They are an assault of every month
And it’s not April’s fault

That one will die
And the other will flee.

That these are the stories we can tell
with pieces missing.

That we can, now,
both lie.