false spring (draft)

but i am always the same.

image source: pinterest

false spring

mid-march snow
in the south sends
the body slipping
backwards into
familiar ways.
driving in circles
with my eyes
closed going
through the
five stages
of grief.
all the night
stars are dead
in my nightstand
next to the
rejected pills.
i stay drunk
on rain and
anger. i stay
high off
heartache and
hopelessness.
the seasons change,
one into the
other, but i am
always the same.
it doesn’t
matter how many
seeds you plant
when the sun
doesn’t shine here.

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