it is in times like this
when i miss you the most

when i picture
your white christmas
the smell of your misltoe
and the warmth of you fire

things i see through a dream
and nothing more
because you are not here
and you must not be real

but i still hope
and i still sing the songs
inside my head
and alongside with my heart
and my blood
that some day you will be back

though i know
that there is nothing left to do
but cope
with the unsaid truth
that my body seems to forget
with the ugly fact
that you are not coming back

and these holidays
have made me tired
of socializing so much
and giving smiles for fun