napowrimo: derivative (day 21)

i wonder what it is about april specifically
that had it stamped the transitionary month;
april in itself is cruel, the month of rebirth -
stagnated roots drink eagerly from aprils’
offerings of showers & snow, pendulating
from wintry embraces to incendiary kisses,
foreshadowing the essence of summer.
a smorgasbord of emotions; i wear my
remorse with pride. i hate that you are
a part of my poetry that will never subside,
and i thank you for it. i love that, home,
will forever be found between your arms
yet hate it’s a place i will never experience.
i hate how repetitive my poetry is beginning
to sound; warmth, saccharine, y/our,
m/ourning, anchor, all concepts that i
established in prior poems, relying on
them as footnotes in every poem ever
since as if they still carry the same weight.
(it does to me, but every poem becomes
a derivation of itself, and you ask whether
this poem itself is original?)
i pen you poems, for my comfort,
not yours – revictimizing myself
with every verse written, sharing
a destiny with prometheus.

i've come to realize the heart is
an organ plagued by memories and

you’re ethereal.

visual:
https://imgur.com/gh1wFfr