I stared at it through the day.
And then also through the night.
It was pale and lit, happy and sad.
I cried remembering the things you say.
I cried imagining a brave, strong knight.
But it was a fantasy of mine, of a little girl-lad.
I cried remembering all I have lost.
I cried of all the dreams I have watched be destroyed.
I cried, because sometimes I also feel so alone.
So many colors I have transformed into.
Some are nice, others new and uncomfortable.
Parts of me I have discovered, that you make visible.
Cheerfulness that is way too new.
Things I tried to hide, for reasons of the dysfunctional.
So many corners of me that weren't in my layout.
Qualities that you magnify to me in high definition.
Smiles that never seemed so delightful.
Unfairness-es of my past that now seem to be so okay.
That I'm so sensitive, yet hardened by my life's condition.
Your love so gentle and so unbelievably insightful.
That life is real, not a novel, or some child's play.
And so it fell on my lap as foggy marshmallows.
As I dug through it I found a glass jar of a broken forever.
The tag had your name on it:
Attached to it, some of the sun's yellows.
It was gift wrapped by you, no doubt whatsoever.
Contemplating as I sit:
All of it together, yet so dispersive.
In a place so alone, thinking that being alone would be tragic.
For a moment I closed my eyes to feel close to you.
And there it was, the sky on my lap brought me a present.
I tried putting together what was broken, with potions and magic.
I cut myself trying, with the facts and the truth.
So I sealed the jar again, with permanent cement.
And so, a broken forever is the best gift I will have for every year's December.