seasons like reasons
in the winter i lose myself. the things that keep me self-assured and together float away and i am left fragmented. it doesn't matter that the winter here is more like autumn, i feel it anyway, those desolate months are imprinted into my bone structure. i was born at a time and in a place that is reigned by winters cold enough to kill and that homicidal season follows me wherever i go. in the winter i kill the dying parts of me and let them fall away; in the spring i rebuild from what is left.
i don't know who i am now, but in april i will. in april i'll let you know, and you can remember me that way until november.
and then i'll be gone again.