I open my door - to the brisk December air,
Each breath as Fresh as the mornings First -
Through my Frosted airways -
A Winter Cloud exhaled.

I heard your voice
in the wind and you let me know
that you were saying goodbye.
I run for shelter,
fear of what comes next.
These nights have never felt so cold,
but all I can do is wait out
the impending storm.

Dear Diary;
It's the last day
of the year and I
think I will burst into tears
for having held them in
all year.

This Christmas you broke
my heart - not quite the present
I was expecting

1:40 PM
29/12/19

I went to Hell
for Christmas eve
only to return with
something nice
to gift you for
this special
day.

December is just
a month-
so why all the
gloom?

It's that time of the year where "a prophet isn't welcome in his own land".
Why do we feel alienated in the midst of known faces yet carve out a niche for ourselves in a stranger's land?
Why do the urge to run away always cross our mind as we tend to grow older, leaving all behind?
Was it the scar that hasn't healed yet or the demon to face as soon as you enter the hell.
It's that time of the year again to wear a mask, to prepare onself; face the wrath with a stoical heart, only to die everyday in a confined ivory tower.
The Mask we wear,
The Pain we bear,
Surviving everyday in a world where no one hardly cares.
#RitzWrites ♕