this year i don’t want any games,
or the off-brand Dyson,
or for him to text me back.
I don’t want my health either, or
the loud lobby music at work,
not the invite to the holiday party.
I don’t want the short ugly uggs,
the pastel candle stick holders,
or the designer knit fits.
I don’t want to feel normal,
like i’m eighteen and self-assured
when everything made sense
because i didn’t know anything anyways.
I don’t want the sweet nothings,
or coal in the place of consistencies -
I just want some chocolate,
and maybe my masters degree.