December

Can it still be my favourite month,

When all I do is remember

The time I was happy and festive

Once, in the month of December?

I think of how it won’t be the same,

How there won’t be cookies and cake;

And, amidst the lights and angel hair,

Will lurk one, shadowy heart break.

I wonder, as this season prevails,

If you let yourself remember,

The love, laughter and kisses we shared,

By the ending of December.

I know the cold will seep in deeper,

It’s the first since you went away;

But just maybe, as the Tree shines bright,

Life shall let smiles in another way.

Boo

Every time I think I am getting over
you,
A friend comes home
And says,
”You’re better off, boo”;
Or
an underwear
You
left
behind,
Sneaks out of our drawer,
And fucks with my mind;
Or
I see some guy
Walking down the street…
And I am reminded
of your
Hair,
or eyes,
or gait,
or feet –
And, no matter what therapy I have gainfully employed,
You
descend on my heart,
And I find it
destroyed.

Collar

After a journey that led me back home,
I washed my hands of viruses
And chanced to see the mirror.
I noticed my shirt askew:
The fold of the collar was bent inward…
I thought about you.
If you were there,
You’d have turned it upright,
In the middle of the road.
I would have smiled;
You would have, too.
And neither would have to say
I love you.