Dear Christmas

I don’t know if I want to see you this year
I think I’m going to cry a shit ton
when I walk by the stores, smell the swiss miss,
hear the choir, and see all that I am
without these
and these feelings
I keep throwing at the walls in my apartment
like that art style trending on TikTok
I am hanging by a thread, spilling everything on the floor.
Christmas, if anything, Christmas…

I want you to mesmerize her,
swoon her with your gentle snow
and fall in her open,
dulcet hands pink with cold &
fascinate her again
as though you are her first snow,
she told me once that she loves snow.
Maybe you know her better, because you’ve snowed every winter for her.
So snow as though you are proposing
as though you are kneeling
as though your cheeks hurt from smiling
as though your eyes are red, blue and green from all the decor by the stores, as though you smell of swiss miss, hear the choirs…

but save enough,
so when I dance
in the square on Christmas Eve.
you can hide how I dance alone
and she’ll stay inside
and maybe she’ll dance with someone if not this one, another Christmas.

So snow calmly
into that golden night like a song
she could sleep to.