Mamma read me a story
That had me more then convinced
That every girl needed saving
A castle and a prince .

I pictured how my prince would be
Loving tall and brave.
I wanted to be that damsel
Waiting to be saved .

But princes are for stories,
I learned that as i grew ,
They fed me dreams and wishes
That never would come true .

No one really needs a castle
Or silk robes that hit the floor ,
If love is so substantial,
Shouldnt it require more ?

Love gets really messy ...
And there are no magic spells
To make it all work perfectly
You need more then wishing wells .

I awake to silence .
Him breathing quietly next to me.
The snow outside the window dancing slowly to the ground .
I close my eyes then open them, peeking again.
Hes here. Im not dreaming .
I turn ever so carefully , propped up on an elbow, watching him sleep.
I study his face , how peaceful he looks.
I run my finger tips down his arm
Tracing around his tattoo, down to his hand.
I feel him grab my hand interlocking our fingers.
I sigh.
" good morning beautiful " .

He takes me down
And brushes the dust
Thats collected on my limbs.

He puts me on his arm
And smiles at all these faces ,
I grin and bare it .

They Oo and they Ah at how lovely
It all seems ,
It crosses my mind
That i cant fool everyone .

Silent ride home ,
Seems like 20 million paces
From the car to the house.

Wash my face ,
Trying to rid the day,
Light off.. Back up on the shelf.

There is always a first,
a first we admire,
a first we never let go of,
a first we try to let go of.

A first kiss,
creating the sensation only one man could,
releasing the butterflies,
roaming freely.

A first love,
showing your heart its true potential,
creating a path for all that is to come,
building the barriers to later be torn down.

A first cigarette,
the feeling of freedom,
your world becoming calm,
the first rush only to lead to the next.

A first cut,
the sense of pain yet recovery,
a mean of freedom from what is held inside,
the newest escape yet the last resort.

There is always a first,
every first has its end,
the end is only where we can truly begin...

I could have stood there for hours
listening to the owls love song ring across the barren fields,
but my ears and fingers were freezing.
I tried to rub some warmth back into them,
straining to hear the birds again,
but all was still.
The only sound-the falling snow hitting the firs.
The owls had gone.

" As you grow older, your Christmas list gets smaller; the things you really want for the holidays can’t be bought "

The older i got and the more years that have passed , the true meaning of this holiday has become clear. In your final days , as were all taking our final breath will you ask the doctor to bring you your new xbox one ? Or bring you out to your new car so you can sit in it ? How about grabbing that new coach purse so you can clutch it ? Dont be silly.

In your final moments , you ask to be surrounded by your family , to hold the hands of the people who have been there with you , supported you. Loved you. If these people matter SO much then; shouldnt they matter just as much now ?

Christmas isnt about buying , or rushing around to get gifts; its about gathering with family and enjoying that really precious time you do have. Right here. Right now.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday's all my friends here , stay blessed <3