Holiday Times

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Years ago…

Is a flashback of a child’s Christmas time.

Year after year.

A child’s first strike to hating Christmas was when the father the child hasn’t seen came to the child’s house Christmas eve. Just to leave after fighting with the child’s mother.

Addiction kept the father away. Mother’s depression kept father away.

So the child grew up away at a distance.

A few years later the child would lose a close family member around Christmas. That would scar the child’s outlook to Christmas.

Another few years later as a teenager the child would live with its mother in a improvised apartment. Where the roaches were the child’s only company.

Again on Christmas eve a drug addict would break the window of the child’s home trying to run from law enforcement.

And with the child’s distorted eyes…

That became the real eyes of the adult who grew up.

A few years toward to present day…

With the abundance of love the adult is around.

Maybe it to could learn to love Christmas again.

The adult will never feel the same happiness as a child does for Christmas.

But maybe contentment and stability is all the adult needs.

Maybe the adult’ s heart grew in size over the years being surrounded by love.

 

 

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Tragedy

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I am.

I am

One tragedy.

One tragedy away from being

destroyed

Destroyed from.

From everything that exists.

Exists to the molecular definition that inhabits myself identity.

Just one more action.

The seam is unraveling.

Stuffing is bulging out.

Please don’t come near.

Leave me be in fear.

This will be the place I adore

When I’ve lost all self control.

Who’s to say that this isn’t me.

I road a butterfly.

And this is the effect from the result of my actions.

One more tragedy I swear

Will be the death of me.

My white flag is waving in the air

Let there be peace from war

Because I cannot be here once more.