i got you a present this year,
one i’m sure you won’t receive.

it will sit beneath the tree, wrapped up pretty with your name scribbled in your favorite brand of pen,
waiting.
it will wait until you’re ready.
until you’re able.

maybe it’ll wait until we forget eachother, and it will slowly fade away.

maybe it won’t wait much time at all.

but for now, it sits underneath falling pines,
untouched.