When it was April

Dear April,

You fell from the stars, burning and bleeding. You were angry.

God you were always so angry.

Rage seeped into your skin like the pain that bled from soul. But I loved you anyway. I fell into your universe, your beautiful, messy universe. Our pain bound us together. Then you were happy, but happiness couldn't fix you, April. Nothing could fix you.

You made me believe that you didn't need help, you made me believe that pain was good, and that your universe wasn't falling apart. But I loved you, I wanted to believe that we were okay, that you were okay. I did for awhile, but denial can only go a long way.

Then you were angry again.

I found my own universe, one with stars set ablaze, one that didn't make the broken bleed. I told you I found it, my private, little universe. You sent your rage after it, and you blew it to pieces. Then I was angry.

But I still loved you. Then you became my universe, and God were you happy.

You were happy to be wanted. But making one person your soul source of happiness is a dangerous game, but you didn't care. You didn't care that I held the weight of your pain. You just made me bleed.

I kept you from shaking, but you just kept falling. You fell into more pain, you pulled too. I became tired, but you kept asking for time. Again and again and again and again. And I gave you it. I gave you time and gave you time and gave you time. You called it a gift. But time is not something to be given, April, and it's not something to be take. It just sifts. You wanted a chance to make better choices, but you didn't, and times moves on whether you do or don't.

I don't know why I let you stay in my mind for so long. I don't know why I let your bruised rage sit in my soul. I don't know why I let myself bleed.

You returned to the stars, I hope you're finally happy, April.

I loved you.

- Rose