Oh how sweet November is feeding on my Christmas soul

The bells, the lights, and the smiles all ready to be consumed

The gardens of flowers and the rampant streets passing by in the cold nights of November- how alcohol affects the minds we speak

I found myself in front of the distant stars in a thursday night of reckless daydreaming on how joyful the celebration is

the youth embracement, society faded, and the fuccbois are screaming "long live the alcohol!" and the celebration bleeds out on its own so-

I went outside and saw the girl who might have fixed my world- "How small and joyful world our lives is" I say- and she left with disgust

Oh how sweet November is feeding on my Christmas soul

Let the rain fall against my umbrella and into my boots as November comes to an end soon.
As December comes, we won't be worried about a rainy day for a while.
Just be safe.

Anonymous. 11/29/2016.

I
looked on at a
yellow sky,
creamy meringue;
peppered with
feathers and wings,
the lemonade stage
for the black bird dancing.

Crisp November winds and
overheated toes,
I lost my head in the
music on the
dimly lit road.

I was a work of art;
You fell in love.
Until you realized you could look,
But couldn't touch

The fan is on, the constant hushing sound adding rhythm to the room
I can hear the hum of cars passing by outside my window
a added sense that I am not alone even though I am here by myself
Novembers cooling touch has crept in
nipping at my toes, drying my already dry pale skin
my favorite time of year when life seems to slow down, putting a glow on the usually bland days
here in my bed under the warmth of my flannel blankets all is right with my world
but my brain still finds something to bring the anxiety out
I thought if I started writing down my thoughts on paper it would lessen the night time stress
but then I stress about not writing on the nights I forget
the streetlight outside my window flashes a constant shadow on my wall
and I find comfort in that
something about the added light on my wall is friendly, familiar
when my brain finally shuts off I fall into dreams of my past
of people I haven't seen in years, all the stories blend into one
repeating like a rerun
at least I still have dreams
even if they're only in my sleep