Gathering by Alice Popkorn/This week's Read Write Poem Prompt

Who says that any month holds the honor
Of being the cruelest?
I can tell you horror stories about all of them

The December I died repeatedly
Only to live through human cruelty
In all of its emotionally expensive dynamics

Or the August when my birthday
Was only a terrible reminder
of that December

April was actually relatively kind
Acceptance sank in
A forwardlookingness became more real

So let the lilacs
Because the memory
Because the desire

They are an assault of every month
A furious mixture of
sharp and pain.

This story is the story of many
We learn to live it alone
But even being alone in it

Even trying to escape the crowds
somehow they follow us
Like a shadow.