empty staffroom hums,
tinsel draped in gaudy glee,
echoes fill the void.

Together we stand around the fire,
the warmth from the flames fuels my anger...

and that's okay,
it's cathartic.

I feed the flames to watch them grow and rise high above me.
I can feel the warmth devour my skin...

and it's okay,
it's cathartic.

and as the fire flickers and wanders,
I begin to wonder...

if all these memories really must go?
maybe I'll set them ablaze until only ash remains...

but how would He feel?

but I begin to wonder as the fire flickers and wanders...

if all this love really must go...
maybe I'll let my shattered heart melt...

but how would He feel?

and as the fire flickers and wanders,
I begin to wonder how this empty and adverse lover must burn...

as the flames flicker and glow,
inviting and enticing...

He would say no...

so into the fire I go.

as I feel the warmth on my skin,
I can begin to smile...

as I burn alone, leaving my memories and my heart break behind...

the flames begin to die, and my life is reduced to ashes...

it is cathartic.

but not for Him.

“𝑺𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆,
𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒆?”
But what does Santa know, though?
I bet on a reindeer even you don’t know.
All year, Santa was hiding in North Pole,
at the same time, I’m hiding my feelings;
what used to be a heart here is now a hole.
January is a beach, December is a cliff.
If the sands would turn to snow,
mountains from Pacific Ocean would grow.

“𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆’𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘,
𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕”
But what do I also know?
I dare the trees to be still as the wind blows.
Tropical the whole year, now I feel frozen,
when exactly is the most wonderful time?
Like a prized painting, my heart felt stolen.
My poetry is confessional, for truth is crime.
If you are made of blazing flames,
I am a forest catching fire after fire.

On this day please remember,
all the souls who are not here.
The moms and dads and siblings,
people that someone once held dear.
The ones who fight addiction,
and the ones who never made it out.
The ones who held the belief,
that they were never cared about.
Even though they're gone now,
we still hold them in our heart,
we remember the person that they were,
before addiction had its start.
Take but just one moment,
if you feel you can spare the time.
And have one moment of silence,
to hold those lost ones in your mind.
Its not a difficult thing to do
just give it a try.
Because even on Christmas day,
addiction will still take,
at
             least
                        SEVEN
                                                                        
                                MORE
                                              lives.

This time of year,
When trees go bare
And snow covers our ground,
I come down
With a seasonal disease...
Weeks prior to Christmas Eve.

The onset is a distant twinkle
Shimmering in the deep;
That gives me such a nuanced twitch...
I itch to hang a wreath.

And when I sneeze,
I'm joyfully pleased
To shop for such and stuff.
I horde it in a secret place,
Then worry I've not enough.

When my muscles get tired and weak,
My back gets bent and sore,
When my body starts to sweat...
I await the seasonal cure.

I'll run a fever, hullucinate,
Take to my bed and wait.
Don't present me meds,
Don't ring me up a nurse,
I'll protest and rave.
This winter ailment,
This gifting curse,
My present proclivity,
Will only break
Come Christmas morn.
Oh Come, Oh Come Nativity.

Christmas is a construct
We've been listening to lies
There's no reindeer in the stable
Santa wasn't any Magi

Jesus got no Christmas stocking
He had nothing to unwrap
The Kings, they turned up later
And that manger was cold and damp

Christmas is a construct
There was no snowy frost
Joseph wasn't draping tinsel
He wasn't rushing up the shops

And Jesus wasn't quiet
He kept them all awake
Like any other baby
He didn't sleep til daybreak

There were no holly berries
No mistletoe or ivy
No pine tree in the corner
At that first nativity

But that sudden choir of angels.
The promised ****** birth
Yes, all that really happened
God did send peace on earth

There's much we have constructed
Even more that we've left out
But Christ remains in Christmas
That's what it's all about

God coming as a child
God reaching down with favour
God with us. Yes: Immanuel
Our promised Christmas Saviour.

As I see the Christmas
Tree, with all the lights
On it
I see many psychedelic
Colours
Colours I love to
See
Every year
Why do people do drugs
When the can get high
Off life!
As I see the Christmas light
Blue
I feel an new!

A Christmas market, icy cold
where crafts are made both bright and bold.
A spinner lady fills my sight
beside her steaming *** of light.
She spins and dyes her woolen yarn —
and thinks of his spun tales and yarns
that wove her into stitches of laughs
to knit them in the cable craft.
The threads of her past joys now flow
into the yarn that she makes glow.