Two-Thousand and Sixteen

I don’t remember January.

I came into this year terrified,

A friend about to commit suicide.

Tears, tears

Are all January brought.

 

In February I was put away.

I had grown too bad

I had lost myself,

Barley found again.

February was an awakening.

 

March I turned another year

Another year longer,

I wonder to myself,

How did I grow stronger?

March eighth I’m fifteen.

 

April was full of no showers

Nothing to comment,

All to cower

Pills, pills

It’s what doesn’t kill.

April was trivial.

 

May I moved on;

Or so I thought.

Dirty, dirty

Was all we were.

I thought it was a new hope.

May was two faced.

 

June it was revealed

The new hope risen too fast.

It was all in the past

The school year off

Not to see,

Not to scoff.

It ended school,

And June ended you.

 

July killed me.

Killed us.

I found I was used,

My love abused.

Our fall beauteous.

July taught me to never love.

 

August we were back again

Rekindled friendships,

New found bonds.

When I saw you,

I couldn’t resist falling through

August I was reminded of what I lost.

 

September I was forced,

To talk to you, to be friendly.

I don’t regret this course.

Because I love you,

And you hold onto me.

September we were brought together again.

 

October was bipolar.

Up and down,

Up and down.

I hate you,

You hate me.

Love, love again.

October refused to make itself clear.

 

November was beautiful.

I was finally clear.

My head is no longer blue and black.

Our love is no longer subdued.

I love you.

I love you so much.

November was cold and clear in the best way.

 

December and the future are beyond me.

Everything undecided,

Everything unknown.

I entered this year damaged beyond repair.

I plan on leaving this year fixed.

Not perfect.

Two-Thousand and sixteen was the worst year I have experienced,

But also the best.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

IbnLeon

Little Green, congratulations! How you contacted the feelings of the writer to different months. What an excellent job. Not only did I learn about the person by reading your poem, but I was also entertained. What a poetic combination.

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