Thursday, February 26, 2009

March.

Auto-response begins the day you call first.

It's not your fault, it's hers, and mine, and theirs.
You're being blamed, because we're unresponsive to irresponsibility. 
I'd know; I'm on the poster for irrationality.

Don't begrudge this. October is a gossip guru, but he's aware of how you feel. Four years he was the target. And with anniversaries approaching, the 28th is unresponsive. So we're aiming at the eleventh. I'm a good shot, a straight arm, and an accurate marksman, for once, for twice, for thrice, who knows? I don't have to make sense when it comes to you, it's candle-groaning-crying time so leave me alone to pout. 

Disambiguation- when you come to despise a month for holding the highest and the lowest moments of a lifetime. No, wait, that's insanity, with nothing to do uncertainly. Please, skip those days. I know I'm not ready to rewind. I've been holding fast-foreword for about a year now, don't make me give up the remote. 

Progress for mariah's brain is not enough to sway. If you put me through this torture, I'll kill myself. Unthreatened? What do you care, you're a month! I'm ushering in May. because April is just as shitty. The worst time of the year, and what have you given me? Nothing to fight it with! Absolutely nothing. What am I suppose to do?

Krystal. god. I can't be expected to forget when you keep sending back the days that remind me. You hurt. fuck. Go fuck yourself, March, stay away from me. I'm giving up time and March for lent. April, too. It's detox. please, just give me some space to survive. 

See? Just thinking about it ruins the poetry. You can't live with forget in your memory.