December 17, 2018 malachilasit

Rubble

It’s the longest night of the year,

The peak of the solstice.

The hair on my arms stand up and the skin

Wrapped around my emotions shiver.

I am empty handed, my hearts barren from

A bittersweet taste.

The gingerbread men crumbled my heart and

My gingerbread heart is tasteless.

The kitchen counter stained,

My tears dried.

The clock running and the moon up high.

I restlessly mourn my past, when I lived

Unembarrassed.

When my gingerbread house was decorated.

The party is over.

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