The way she smiled
At the sight of
Pretty glass bottles
And things like honey
Always amused me

She sees so much good in this world
And she is slowly teaching me how to

Three knives
In a triangle
On my back

Mind
Body
Soul

Mind is a mess
A rip in a tea bag
Where all the leaves
Fly wildly
Like birds to a gunshot

Body is a temple
One I have desecrated
With ugly graffiti
And human ****
And posters
Of corrupt
And desperate
Politicians

Soul is black
Like sewer grime
Smells like it too
It's putrid
It's disgusting
It's not worth anything

There is no balance

The white LEDs shine bright
Like the unwanted pseudo-stars they are

The living room that houses the sofa I am lying down on
Has white walls that reflect the bulbs' light
Almost as if they were mirrors

The lights hit my face the way lights hit faces,
In less than a snap of the fingers,
It still feels like it's dark, to be frank

It's the kind of darkness you experience
When a blanket is over your head
While you're camping on a starless, moonless night
With only the tent floor as your sleeping bag

You feel the earth stabbing you in a billion different points
As the cold slowly freezes your fingers into submission
And the darkness you see is the darkness only the ones who have gouged their eyes out can describe
The pitch black of all the pitch black

The lights hit my face now like an oncoming train,
Yet I see darkness emanate out of the bulb like splashing waves on a beach

To be honest,
I was always quite scared
At the thought of meeting you.
Blood used to rush through my body
Whenever I thought of breathing the same air
In the same room as you.

I'm glad you pushed me to come
Because you gave the bitter, black coffee
A few tablespoons of sugar.

I'm waiting for my tea to arrive in this hotel lobby.
The slow piano music playing in the background
Is more familiar than it should be.

I should be calm, but all of the couples around me
Are exchanging sweet nothings and sweeter kisses
And it makes me jealous
Because I wish you were here
So we could do the same.

Tea is here, love.

I wish I were somewhere else
Somewhere not of the world
Somewhere peace
Somewhere love
Somewhere smiles are not false

Nirvana maybe
But the chaos here
does not permit passage

The Christmas spirit has dissipated into the atmosphere. The jolly tunes come out of the speaker only to be turned into sad sounding drones. Every note becomes sadder and sadder and the lights grow dimmer and dimmer. It's like watching an old TV shut off, the sides fade into the middle and eventually all you have is blackness. You see your dark reflection on the convex glass. Growing old is watching a TV turn off. The happy cartoon faces slowly fade and you're faced with a reflection of yourself. What do you do now? 

The happy cartoon that is the Christmas spirit has faded into the abyss and all you're left with is yourself. You float in the dark nothingness that is the act of being self-aware. Christmas is just another day on the calendar. Say goodbye to the cheer and the snowmen and the gingerbread houses and the Santa hats. Say hello to life.