The month I despise. The month I am scared of. The month I survived. The month I proudly look back at. The month that endures a lot of pain. The month of agony. The month that’s most important but most ignored. The month that’s not so hot but all the more tiring. The month that’s not so dry but far from the clouds. The month I never saw all these years. The month that shaped birth and life and being into me. The month that sucked out the very same soul from me. The month I was born. The month I will fall and die and vanish. The month I will rise again. To witness yet another May. Or may not.
The fool’s month. Me. April.

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