Cycling Through May

how does one suffer quietly? never in my life was i disiplined to bite my tongue. i was told to feel it all. like somehow feeling the bad made all the good parts more deserving. cry when you must, but don't forget to watch the lilacs bloom. i have saint matthew on my shoulder and judas pulling at my wrists. how is one to hold this wickedness within such humble fists? cycling through may, i've seen every side of spring. taken a glimpse at the morning glories' wake, then watched them shrivel in to the evening. i attended each ipomoea's wake and paid my respects by grieving. love like the flowers. be bountiful and full of life. be brave, for there is time to die and a time to live. chose to live while you have a body. never mistake life for the afterlife, or you will miss out on both.