The Definition Of April Poem by Max Dahlquist

The world is stationary,
a sunrise over evergreens.

I’m awake
because I don’t dream anymore
and it’s so much easier
to get up from bed
when I’m not leaving anything behind.

I’m awake
but my eyes still shudder under light
and outside my bed
the dirt is paved with cigarette butts
and painted walls are peeling and crumbling away,
ugly and safe, but half-redeemed
by the mottled sky, filled with fire and urgency.

Today is banality and arson, sin, redemption and love,
so stick needles in my side
and keep me here, away from tomorrow,
away from sleep,
away from skeletons in closets or stifling lies,
hold me here from wherever you are,
and we’ll pull each other on
until the world moves,
and the trees lose their color,
and the ugliness melts away into a softened dusk.