Season’s Greetings
I always know it’s coming and still I never see it arrive.
It always starts off slow, like how the weather starts to cool.
Like how the leaves change color in the Fall, mine change up too.
Vibrant and unafraid of how the wind blows.
But then the chills come and I feel the fear bite my nose.
The trees lose their leaves and they’re strong on their own.
I’m strong too, as I have been told.
I’m strong. Or maybe it’s just what I’m told.
Strong never feels like a choice.
Was winter always this heavy?
Did I always leave room for you to walk in and say hi?
Like I welcomed you to rake up the leaves, now dull in color,
and set up nothing but red lights on every branch in my mind.
I ache for the sapling that didn’t need to know it could survive.
That saw snow only once and felt untainted joy,
not frozen from feeling everything but.
I’m supposed to love Christmas, I’m supposed to love you.
Who needs to buy you gifts
when you take what you want straight from these roots?
You dig me up and I can’t even mask the scent of dirt and moisture.
How quickly the sunlight goes.
The sudden drought is always overwhelming.
It’s not water I crave though, it’s warmth.
And I can’t find it in this forest.
The flowers all have each other and I only have you.
No wait, I know that’s not right.
But you like it when I give in to that self-sustained truth.
This year I turn 25, and when the ice melts, I’ll be grateful I’m still alive.
