it was magic,
anticipation hung in the air
with every moment,
a wonderment consumed my child-mind
and turned chaos into perfect order
as i dreamed about the morning of christmas.

it's cold, now,
and i hate the garish colors and flashing lights,
the constant demands upon time and money,
and the persistence of those around me that we should all "be happy,"
as though acting happy is an instantaneous cure-all.
they should say, "i don't want to deal with **** - so shut up."
and go back to pretending everything is good.