Dis-organised

Squeezing the eraser,
I try removing the grids,the numbers, the red and black,
but the black lines keep reappearing ,
the grids form  and the numbers slowly attack.

After that month,that sheet is flipped or torn,
hidden till it resurrects after another three sixty five days.
That date and month will haunt you mercilessly till you are reborn,
the days of the month shift silently like a pack of wolves and preys,

Why can't there be infinite months, infinite dates,
not one single combination to repeat.
make new memories unassociated with numbers ,as a new sun awaits.
let it remain loose ended ,continuous and incomplete.