Christmas comes
Christmas goes
transient as the last seat at the table,
the one filled by hot air and paintbrushes and
memories of a time less painful when the
falling snow didn't remind you of angels
and the clouds didn't remind you of
the far place where you can't be.
I'm jealous that you went because
you don't have to be stuck here anymore,
a lost soul in a cruel fish bowl
with a mirrored side like a funhouse.
Well there's nothing fun about this and
this house is made of
the dreams wasted,
thunderous voices booming insecurities
across the hope torn apart,
turned to shame.
Christmas comes
Christmas goes
like the people who don't have time to say hello,
the ones taken too fast to say goodbye.
You shouldn't be scared or confused when you
leave this near place.
Christmas comes
Christmas goes,
a woven melody that I hear, entwined with the
storms I'm not sure my paper skin can weather anymore.
Yesterday was a good day
because Christmas came
Christmas went,
you went though,
and you haven't come back.
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