A Return to Youth

When I was younger, I was determined to see the sun.
I wanted to see the beauty in the holidays.
Yet I listened to I Hate Christmas Parties for fun.

Over the years, the magic disappeared.
The wreaths, lights, and presents all felt like a reminder of happiness I couldn’t have.
The stagnation and monotony never felt that weird.

It culminated in a sigh, “I hate Christmas,” one day.
The numbness was replaced with a rising fear.
Is this my life? Will it always be this way?

The smiles of others felt like someone punching a bruise.
Why do they get to be happy?
I just felt broken and used.

Those lenses, those glasses, they stayed on for a few years.
I prided myself on a soft heart, but it was dying.
It all unraveled once I released the tears.

The world spins round, shifting on its axis.
I stood outside of time, watching the orb dance.
That’s when I was hit with a new sense of bliss.

The lights are off in my house, just the Christmas tree is plugged in.
My heart is at peace.
I can breathe again.

The grey turned red and green, with a soft golden glow.
The realization was profound.
I am not doing this life alone.

Like the wood of a fire catching the flame,
The smoky haze filled my life.
Christmas is back, and things won’t be the same.