It’s been a while since I’ve felt you. It’s been long since I lay starry eyed under winter skies, swearing I could hear the jingle jangle tinkle of your bells in the air.
It’s been a while since I’ve smiled.
From nothing, to nothing more, I now lay ensconced and curled between grief and a time I can barely remember.
I was once your child.
Dear Christmas, nostalgic suns glaze my eyes and I smell tears in the fire place. Winter no longer sings, while a burning summer heats the lines on my feet, the oracle forgot to read.
These scars are hard to interpret.
I feel the earth mourn under reaching tips of these yearning toes, as we vibrate in the frequency of pain. There’s terrible silence at work again.
Desperate, I write letters to death pleading a return on orders placed wrongly under my name. Back. Back.Back. I no longer inch ahead. Lost between whispers of a life, and the loss of all the dead.
Dear Chirstmas, it seems I misspell you as often as you elude me. Will you ever again come to me? This pulse throbs in violent threats, as I lose all synonyms for pain.
Dear Christmas, if I may, I must. One wish through the screens of collecting dust-bring your best soldiers forward, have your missiles aimed.
Do what you must, to turn the light on from within.