december: each night something inside me shatters the same way a plate does in my parents' kitchen. i remind myself it's a time to give & so i give the rest of my body to a boy who never bothered to say thank you.

january: this is not the time to be reborn. everything new dies when the frost comes. if i stay still long enough i can feel the clouds rolling in. my friends cry tears that freeze before anyone can acknowledge them. this is not the time to be reborn.

february: since when did the music stop? my mother sleeps alone on the living room couch while my dad splits both shares of their bed. i can feel their first dance in my ribcage. something trips inside me.

march: he paints my arms the same blackened blue as the leaking sky and dares to call me a sunset. i wait for the light to break through before calling home.

april: i think i can feel the rain inside me. he still asks me to breathe more life into his body as if i decide whether or not he will grow into a man. i tell him this is not a time to be reborn.

may: god, there's so much to see. everything has grown up, yet it seems i've only grown out. of love or lies. he tells me to cover up my body as if all ninety-five pounds of me occupies too much of his share of the sun.

june: i keep indoors most days because i can't handle the way everyone looks in the light. they are all golden brown and my skin is still frequently painted black and blue. this time, the skies don't match my complexion. i feel undeserving of the sun and refuse to let it touch me.

july: he does. without permission or warning. my body becomes a strangled flower and he decides to withhold any water until he rips another petal. one by one. i fall apart without a sound. he loves me. he loves me not.

august: this time it's different. pieces of the sky fall down each night i spend alone. i picture myself cradling the moon in my hands and rocking it back to sleep. my god, this is not the time to be reborn.

september: i still shake sometimes but is not often. my body becomes mine again. i can finally feel the sun & i welcome the coming of the rain. there is no shame in loving both the light and the shade.

october: time flies. i throw out the cards and the rest of the apologies along with all my other memories. that is all he becomes. a memory. i paint my walls everything but the color blue.

november: i am seventeen now and want to remember this feeling. i spend some nights piecing myself back together & dance alone frequently. my dear, this is a time to be reborn.