iyan
christmas blues
the chill wind of past christmas spirits seeps in through the seams of my window
a cup of hot chocolate on my drawer still warm and smells delicious
i can almost see the waftarom like in the cartoons, urging me to take a sip
faerie lights emitting an amber glow, i can almost feel its warmth on my face
the sound of soft music from the vinyl in my living room fills every crevice
i can hear its age through the scratches it plays but it\'s a comforting crackle
as i grind my pigments of red and green, to paint a pretty christmas picture
the crinkling of pigment under my glass muller slowly numb my mind
and i felt my soul melt, as my body basks in the glow of my decadence
The streets are white with snow, even in a single color it is so beautiful
the plate of cookies grow cold as the recipient of fiction never arrives
yet i did not have the heart to put it away, traditions are so silly sometimes
the festive feeling of joy is bound in every house, just like mine
yet i still feel something is missing, something, someone
a person, a place, a smell, a sound, a touch, a memory, an emotion
i can’t quite place it, what it could be
the empty feeling eats away at the fellow feeling in my heart
like a crumbling gingerbread house at the hands of a naughty child
a chill goes down my spine, but the windows were closed
i won’t be able to deny it anymore
along with the reds and greens, it seems i\'ve caught some of the christmas blues.