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April's an evil bitch in heat
You can do this
So much space now
April's showers mock the salty puddles under your face
Too much pain to turn the pillow over
They go into heat in April
Sowing wild oats, too selfish to think of how they are hurting their best friends
She is cursed, this April month like she's always been
Some of you already know
You get to finally find out who your friends were not
Some of your friends survive another blessed April
Life because she needs to feed on the death
Before she can deliver her wrath
Got all this space made for more than just you
Got nothing holding you back or up
Grab your device, go to work, sleep and repeat
Until April returns again, gear up with friends to spare
It isn't you. It's not even them
But you are right, it is like you are being tortured
Left with so much strength and space and truer, fewer friends
The poem certainly presents
The poem certainly presents quite a different perspective on April, and presents it well, but the final line of the poem---as befitting its position in the poem---is one of the most powerful I have read in a while.
Starward