Found this where you hid it
Beneath the flight of stairs
and the string of white glass bulbs
and the red and white striped candy canes
boxed in unwrapped cellophane
*
Lifted it easily
into the space
before my heart
bringing it into my trust
*
Breathed slowly
*
Felt a tear release itself
all at once
dashing hope against the full length of my face
*
Gently slid a tingling finger
beneath the Scotch tape
careful not to tear the gilt edges:
Rosy Santa faces and flying reindeer
staged in knee-high snow drifts
and perfect winter houses
decked out in tinsel and star-eyed angels
singing their hearts out before
a small fire --
the artist’s perfect rendition of our far away cottage in the woods
*
Set aside the ribbons and the bow
*
Lifted its small velveteen lid
*
Exposed
the only question
you never got to ask
***
Copyright © 03/27/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (5)
Descriptive and heartbreaking!!!💕❤️❤️
This was so poignantly beautiful! Gosh you have such a way with words!
Oh, Christy, this poem is pure heartbreak! Beautifully and as sensitively rendered as a portrait in pastel.
Oh no...🩵
Truly heartbreaking! You painted this picture so well.