April Shower Bring...?

Though it only be April, the night is like that of June The thick, humid air aids my insomnia, though it is already fueled by an incurably roaming mind I fumble for the switch of the small fan that has been gathering dust on my bedside, only to find that it has come unplugged It's too late to search around in the dark, so I give up and return to bed As I lay, staring into the dark, I cannot help but think that in July, I could not sleep, either, but then, I had no want for it I stayed up late talking to you on the phone, with the fan on to cover our whispers, our chuckles, our promises, our secret Even after the sticky evening air gave way to the cool of the wee hours, the fan hummed on until the sun rose You were still the happy cause of my yawns after the weather cooled and the fan was decommissioned for the year, around October We had grown bolder in our declarations, our laughter, our trust, our feelings It didn't matter that I never slept, for every day was a living dream In November, when the air grew cold and the leaves began to fall like golden tears, you left me Alone, I bore the chill in December, the dark in January, the pain in February, the rain in March, sleepless, joyless, dreamless Now, it is April The sun is to rise soon, but it bring no hope It just marks another day, another night, alone.