Fairy dust and magic makes the spirit thick,
Until you realize the fat man’s always been mockery.
The world will choke each inflection of it out,
Till imagination becomes that of an art degree.

Leach the childhood free to make it succumb.
Like the reduction of the forlorn Thrift Store doll,
With one leg and toothpaste in her matted hair,
So it’s passable enough to forgive us all.

The lights sparkle in the windows of your eyes,
Breath drags out like the puffs off a cigarette.
Funds are relinquished in order to buy the gifts,
For friends, in a year, we’ll come to forget.

Love is funny and fickle when this time draws near.
We make smileys in frosted glass and angels in snow,
Wrap up the things we failed to say the other days.
Grasp for a happiness we can no longer know.

A childish girl sits with eyes turned to snowflakes,
Beside a cut-down pine tree so cleverly disguised.
With the absence of presence as clear as the chill,
She wishes for the strength to make it out alive.