#a year through

[agusdt]

march welcomes the first spring breeze with open arms and in return, spring plants seeds of new life and hope in his heart. let these seeds grow, spring tells him, and let yourself grow with them; it’s time to get better

[agusdt]

once upon a cold morning, february was sitting in an empty parking lot forming smoke rings with the warmth of his breath against the crisp 6am air pretending they’re halos.     “do you believe in magic?” he asks with tired eyes. the first rays of sunlight slowly crept up behind him casting an angel-like glow on him. his question echos through your head. his touch was like an unspoken abracadabra that made all the hairs on your body stand up, his gaze alone could make you feel like you were flying so much closer to the sun than icarus ever did without your wings melting away, the sound of his voice an unending spell under which you did not want to break free from.    “you make me do.” you say. february had always looked cold, but there was a tiny furnace in his heart; its fire stoked by the beating hearts of new lovers.    "then kiss me.” he says.

[agusdt]

january wakes up softly and her eyelids flutter open. her friend, the sun, is greeting her warmly through the cracks of her blinds. she smiles back as she stretches her limbs and breathes in the cold air deeply. today is the start of a new beginning, she whispers, i will be softer, i will be better, i will be greater.

[agusdt]

january’s exhale blends in with the misty morning dawn. the mist looks like a cloud on the meadow, a blanket on the flowers; letting them rest soft and soundly. soon, they will wake up and let everything know that they have come back, for their beauty will capture the attention of all. january aspires to be just like them.

[agusdt]

january has always been grateful for the serene moon and brilliant stars that decorated the clear skies. on lonely nights like these, they have been the most perfect company than she could have ever wished for. as she looks up at them with tired eyes, a cold breeze touches her rosy cheeks, as if they were telling her, “star-child, we are watching over you; star-child, you are not alone.”

[agusdt]

january is lying on her bed, her hair sprawled across the pillow like creeping vines. the only sounds she’s hearing are the rustling of leaves and the time passing. the past few weeks have been absolute hell, but she got through them. i have survived, she thinks—it’s a quiet and unspoken victory cry and she can’t help but be proud of herself, i’m getting better.