Swing low,
Sweet chariot
Swoop my heart
Into your arms
And warm
It up enough
To start it
Beating again

I'm not going to hope that it is me.
Because, likely,
It is not.

The song
'Little Bag of Hair'
By the Mystery Jets
It's the only song,
On a playlist
That reads,
Forbidden.

Sometimes,
I feel the urge
To fall in love again.
Then, I think,
better not.

He watched
As some of the
Parents
Put their car
Seats into their
Trunks.
He knew that
Those car
Seats were
Going to be
Empty before
The parents
Came to pick
Their kids
Up...

Sitting outside of Ulta,
A make up store.
Waiting for Brooklyn,
To get done borrowing
Some samples.
The lights in there,
They are very very bright,
And it makes me uncomfortable.
That's why I'm just waiting.
Out here, not in there.
When will I not be so
Ruled by my anxieties?

I've locked myself up,
These past two years.
I'd say I don't blame you,
But then I'd be lying.
Thanks for the gift.
I didn't know you
Could package heartbreak.
It was a little earlier
Than the holidays, but
It loves to open up
On Christmas,
And make me cry
Under the mistletoe.
You wrapped it up,
In beautiful ribbon.
Just like you wrapped me,
Up around your finger,
Two years ago.
Thanks for that.

Hope you have a wonderful holiday,
        Sincerely,
              Amara