In truth, December destroyed me.
January crushed me.
By February I was not myself.
March rolled in like beatings and rolled out like a bear hug.
In April I stared out my window for a fucking month.
I don’t want October. I don’t want November.
I don’t want to feel those crippling blows that I can’t explain to my friends, myself or you.
I’m so tired of this photo being re-done
…but then again I do like this. I wont lie.