These ******* winter months always chills me to the bone.
We would have been together by three years next month.
No one else has been able to keep my heart warm ever since.

My grandfather is slowly losing his mind and he can’t stay himself.
In just a few more years I’ll be entirely alone without a family.
Those Christmas decorations are like flashing neon signs at a funeral.

All of my holiday cheer is pure ******* it’s been a con for a long time.
The future approaching me is grim but I figure that I deserve all of this.
I’m used to dancing with the dead anyways.

“Merry ******* Christmas I might see you again next year.”
I told my reflection in the smudged mirror.

Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****.
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******!
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!

Prepare your heart.  Prepare your mind.

Make way for our Heavenly King,
who humbled himself from Holy on High,
to earthly flesh - in a lowly manger to lie.

Th Author of the Universe,
born to live the perfect life and take upon Him man's own curse,
delivered to the cross to die.

Reconciled and freed from sin, now pure in God's own sight,
we give thanks and praise to Christ Jesus our Lord
who was born that first Christmas night.

one day
the holidays
will hurt a little less
as time halves and halves and halves until
i can't remember your name anymore.
in time i'll learn to be present
with the ones who wait to
love me, soft and
patient.

Remember when I loved the holidays?
Two years ago, I was wasting so much of our precious time
fighting with you.
Fighting over how important it was to celebrate with family...
Stressing to you the ways that made it important, and
How it was you, that had made it mean so much more to me.

Because, at the time,
we had been planning to become a family.

I can't stand the holidays, anymore.
It’s around this time of year when I remember opening up to you
about how happy it had made me to have you there,
and seeing you with my family,
had somehow felt like home to me.

Tonight, those same memories
are wreaking havoc within my skeleton;
shattering all the parts of me
that surgery could never piece back together.

Now I’m Hollow;
And Homeless.

Family used to be home,
but my family is no longer a sanctuary
or hopeful detour;
Like when your rings still weighed on my hands
and your dog tags around my neck.

With no monetary claims to prove my worth,
They see only shame -
In how I remedied my own temporance.
Their all too familiar absence,
Has yet to silence the unspoken questions
asked through eyes of disinterest
and judgement.

They think I won't see,
what they don’t want to show,
if nobody tells me.
But I notice every rehearsed attempt they make
to try to fix me…
To fix the person I’ve become
since I tried to erase your memory with self-destruction.

It makes sense, doesn’t it?

You killed us by becoming history,
so I killed us by becoming an addict.

Recovering from crystals
that melted into the air in my lungs
whenever I managed to speak your name again.
Recovering from every promise you made
and the all too familiar feeling of nostalgia
that’s both painful and pleasurable…
bittersweet.
Recovering from my true addiction
- You.

The holidays meant catching up with cousins
while you sat with my grandma.
You always listened as she shared her life...
A life that Alzheimers had slowly taken from her.
Like they did her memories of me.

My Grandmother never remembers who I am
when I visit or call…
So why, then, does the woman that raised me,
STILL ask for you by NAME?

Each visit results in telling her that you left me.
She asks me why I messed up, again…
what I did wrong, this time…
and if you found something better in this new woman.

Reminding me that I failed to be enough to stay…
For once.

Trust me… if I knew why nobody ever stays in my life, I’d tell her.
I’d be able to explain to myself why everyone that I grow to love
- LEAVES.

I grew to hate the holidays but maybe you’ll grow out of it.

I hope you got the family you wanted…
and I hope they help you love the holiday season;
like I thought you loved me.
I hope you manage to make so many happy memories
that your happiness surpasses my emptiness
at what I remember.
I hope she’s worth more to you
than the money you spend on her -
like I never could be.

When people ask me why I hate the Holidays,
I hope I think back to when I almost married my father,
sharing more than just his narcissism,
hidden intelligence,
or his love of alcohol…  
and how much that boy
-like my father-
hated the holidays…  
and tell them about you.

Whenever people ask you why you love the holidays,
I hope you think about when you almost married your mother,
sharing more than just her middle name,
her love for you & her home,
or her love of astrology…
and how much she
-like your mother-
loved the holidays…  
and tell them about me.

With the holidays around the corner,
I feel your presence even more.
I saw an angel in a store yesterday,
And almost bought it as a gift for you.
I catch myself talking about you...
As if you were still around today.
With the holidays around the corner,
It's harder to supress the pain.
You were my friend above all else,
I could call on you always.
We spoke often on the phone,
And we checked up on Facebook...
With the holidays around the corner,
I find myself missing you even more.

He hasn't laughed since you passed...
Nor has he smiled since then.
With the holidays around the corner...
I wonder how hard this is on him.
All I know is my heart hurts now,
And I don't know how to fix it.

I really ****** miss you Nanny...
And I don't think I'll be the same again

Got back successfully,
From weeks of ecstasy;
Coming down from a high,
Still not measuring up.
My hill is daunting,
The valleys so low;
I watch my step
From backsliding below.
I know there's reason
Where the light's up this road.
I'm still plodding
Where I need to go.