Pink tree tops reflecting the setting sun

Or

Plastic scraps caught on the fingers of trees?

Stars on a wintery night, glistening like crystals

Or

Dreary cold, dead silence and frostbite?

Sun rays peeking through sleepy woods, glinting off melting puddles

Or

Muddy booby traps waiting to get stuck on your shoes?

A church hill painted red

A Christmas tree farm

Abandoned antiques

Warm gold and shadow intermingling with one another on barren grass

Or

Dead grass?

Frozen lakes, old wooden bird houses

Or

Abandoned homes?

Unkempt lists of incomplete fragments jotted down to return to when time allows

Or

Diamond thoughts left unsaid, unheard, and unloved.

Thinking in and of itself is a type of art form good or bad

Looking in from the outside always makes things look more exciting

It’s not as pretty once you’re inside

Telling only one side of the story, woven by eloquent lies

A house alive with green and purple amongst drab gray shacks

Or

Abandoned buildings falling apart, being taken over by green.

The urgency of players in a basketball game

Or

Dirt under your fingernails.

Fading round smoky circle in the blue sky

Or

Pointless observation.

Realizing human connection is all we have.

Learning the nature of oblivion.

Becoming one with the world in isolation.

Droplets leaking down grimy tear streaked faces, fed up with inequality. Voices screaming their anguish

Or

Peace.

People trapped, glued to a slab a metal fit to you palm, mesmerized by blue light frequency

Or

Freedom.

Pretty or ugly

Or

Ugly

Or

Pretty?

"How much do you love me

On a scale of 1 to 10?"

you ask.

How can I measure my feelings

In a calibration so calculated

And cold?

A scale would give you a number

But words would tell you what I mean

What does it even mean to say I love you?

That you’ll send me presents on my birthday

Whisper sweet words when nothing feels okay?

Travel to the moon and back

Promise me the stars?

Buy me a boat, horse, fast cars

Or would this transaction surpass monetary action?

I’d love you even if we lived on nothing but potatoes.

Will you squeeze me so tight

To make up after a big fight?

Know all of my little habits and quirks

Staying with me despite them

And making long distances work?

If that is so

Then I’d say that is the scale

I love you this much, I say

Holding out my arms, widespread

It doesn’t seem much to you, but it is my whole being and body

A scale would give you a number

But words would tell you what I mean

Now tell me, On a scale of 1 to 10

How much do you love me?

Time stands still

When the world stops working

Maybe this is what it feels like

To be immortal

Endless waiting

For the world to start again

The cold doesn’t hurt

Dead dreams do

Have ice cream for breakfast -who cares?

The world is ending

I used to think everything happens for a reason

Maybe the world is just cruel

Playing me for a fool

Call out sick from work -who cares?

The world is ending

Why can’t we just let the world stop?

Why do we always have to keep moving? It’s funny.

We get what we want then complain there’s nothing to pass the time.

Kiss and fuck whoever you want -nobody should care

The world is ending

No one posts on social media anymore. There’s no one to see it. A like is a glimmer of hope, there’s someone else out there. Alive

Eat that potato chip -there’s nobody here to show off a beach body to

The world is ending

The cold doesn’t hurt

Dead dreams do

Been waiting for that fairytale story

But real life doesn’t have happy endings

-my god the world is ending

We say it’s not fair, but a plague

Doesn’t care for justice. Or maybe

We are the virus

And it is the cure

Pink tree tops reflecting the setting sun

Or

Plastic scraps caught on the fingers of trees?

Stars on a wintery night, glistening like crystals

Or

Dreary cold, dead silence and frostbite?

Sun rays peeking through sleepy woods, glinting off melting puddles

Or

Muddy booby traps waiting to get stuck on your shoes?

A church hill painted red

A Christmas tree farm

Abandoned antiques

Warm gold and shadow intermingling with one another on barren grass

Or

Dead grass?

Frozen lakes, old wooden bird houses

Or

Abandoned homes?

Unkempt lists of incomplete fragments jotted down to return to when time allows

Or

Diamond thoughts left unsaid, unheard, and unloved.

Thinking in and of itself is a type of art form good or bad

Looking in from the outside always makes things look more exciting

It’s not as pretty once you’re inside

Telling only one side of the story, woven by eloquent lies

A house alive with green and purple amongst drab gray shacks

Or

Abandoned buildings falling apart, being taken over by green.

The urgency of players in a basketball game

Or

Dirt under your fingernails.

Fading round smoky circle in the blue sky

Or

Pointless observation.

Realizing human connection is all we have.

Learning the nature of oblivion.

Becoming one with the world in isolation.

Droplets leaking down grimy tear streaked faces, fed up with inequality. Voices screaming their anguish

Or

Peace.

People trapped, glued to a slab a metal fit to you palm, mesmerized by blue light frequency

Or

Freedom.

Pretty or ugly

Or

Ugly

Or

Pretty?

Anxiety is the color grey. Not quite black not quite white, ever indecisive, the blurry gradient down the middle. It's inconlusive existence spins itself on its head, upside down. The colors of life blotted out by its shadow, sucked into a tornado. Tell me, how do you make it out of this infinite feedback loop?

Black pink red and blue --

Everything's blurry;

No one cares what I do.

Bruises on my heart

The clouds are bleeding

Dreaming,

Of moments

Filled with

You.

There it lies, beside the river bank, attracting flies.

In a lump of brown and black

The aroma would give even a skunk a heart attack.

It was planted

in a time of desperation,

A moment of weakness.

I just could not hold it in.

Crouching there above the leaves,

My bottom naked and vulnerable,

I frantically looked for a material to wipe with.

I even contemplated using my sleeve.

I found the cleanest leaf I could find --

You must understand, I really was in quite a grind.

Pinch, wipe,

Drip dry.

Never again

Will I leave the house

Without a roll of two-ply.

I remember Christmas,

As a child wide awake and wired the night before,

Looking for a chance to spot Santa,

And waking up to presents galore.

I remember Christmas,

Sprinkling reindeer "chow,"

And admiring its sparkling

On the crystalline snow.

I remember Christmas,

And shimmering in the moonlight,

The white snow

Was a bedazzling sight.

I remember Christmas,

When I still believed magic was in the air,

When I believed fate

Was good and fair.

I remember Christmas,

When I thought the world was mine for the taking,

When I thought there was more

To the hustling and bustling, shopping and baking.

Again, now it is Christmas,

And no one can thoroughly explain why we're all here,

So, we might as well let go of all our hate and greed,

And spread love, generosity, thankfulness, and cheer

To all across the planet,

This time of year.