This day, as winter dies -
cold, and heartless, and exposed - a December which lingers
and feels no shame in subduing me.
It was in January that I was bad; slipping back to ghostly fingers
spectres in the eyes of him, me, you -
others around us that let their busy laughter sit on the roads like mist.
The lonely chattering of teeth under scarves, hot conversations wet with breath dew
Quick thoughts. Openly sad. Feelings persist.
A layer of sleep coated my fingers, my hair. My cold feet.
And beneath my gloved hands danced anothers' thoughts I struggled to know.
Slipping quietly into a slower body; sleeping under a layer of snow.
Soon, I promise, I will get better again. As winter dies.

the littlest
month coming
but I wished it stuffed

with all colors of peace
gratitude and smiles of
understanding a cold drink
can be sweet in silence
savored limbs stretched

infinite beauty my
thoughts a pillow
come lay with me

In the early morning of February
You tip your head back with valor
As you dare me to pluck you out
From the confines of white sheets

Your regal temptation of promises
Do course across on every fibers
That surge endlessly with hope
Of predicting what's to come next
After the whispers of good mornings

The time is exactly two forty-five,
And I’m out here alone
Below the February sky
Just trying to find a way to feel alive.
-
You know what that’s like?

I got my headphones on,
Dressed to un-impress,
Playing my current favorite song
With my hair all in a mess.

And you’re on my mind again,
Like an imaginary friend
That I just can’t seem to grasp.
Are you fiction, are you fact?
-
You’re everything that I lack.

And I’m in a place that I can’t describe,
Swaying to the music
At two forty-five.
The longer I’m alone,
The longer I’ll survive,
So I’ll dance the night away
Beneath this February sky.

And then the cops drive by
On this cool February night,
And you’re still not in sight -
All I can see is flashing lights.

And they stop and ask if everything’s alright,
Ask how many drinks I’ve had this night.
I just keep swaying and sigh
Because I’ll never get it right,
-
And all of this is just a waste of their time.

So I say,
“Sorry officer,
I’m not drunk,
I’m just psychotic.”

And they look into my eyes,
And much to their surprise,
I’m simply sober, and alive
Below the February sky.

Then I take their hands and pull them with me,
Although they can’t hear the song,
And they try to fight, but I don’t let them,
I just laugh and sing along.

The time is roughly three o’five,
And I’m being detained
Under the silver moonlight.
And the February sky watches on…

I guess you’ll never know quite what it’s like,
No, you’ll never know what this feels like.

I won't be plucking off petals from my rose
like those lovesick Romeos and Juliets on park benches.
I don't need luck and petal symmetry to believe.

I won't litter the petals
like lipstick marks or blood stains on white sheets.
I won't be placing them in a vase half full,
that's temporary.

I have a better plan in mind,
a better way to immortalize
my rose. Deep within a gift,
pressed between pages
is a symbol of your love to me.

February is like one of the darkest nights,
a sleep full of nightmares,
it is like a bad, old cigarette,
filling up my lungs with
smoke
that won’t let me breathe.

February is like a muddy day,
anywhere I go it makes me feel miserable and filthy,
it makes me feel like a child whose birthday everyone forgot about,
February is like the monster under the bed,
it gets me scared and makes me cry
and I cannot sleep at night.

February makes me want to run away,
it’s like a bad mother who keeps on hurting her child,
it’s like a storm when you’re walking home after a hard day,
it's like the worst sunburn or
the worst paper cut.

February is like an endless Sunday
it’s like the saddest clown,
the most painful song,
February is like a cemetery at night,
like a day in a ****** war.

I have the same menu every February day
wine for breakfast and wine for lunch
and  some more wine for dinner..
I still can’t forget, I still can’t forget
the way you left.