December

December is here with its bittersweet grasp,
festivities and grief tangled up in their own sadistic dance.
The latter hit me just before bed on the third,
my wandering subconscious demanding to be heard.  
Whenever I allow my mind to roam - it always finds its way back to you.  
If we'd have known, who would we have been?
If you seen me now, would you be proud?  
 
Twinkling lights can't distract from the past in my grasp
and the stolen future i mourn. Memories and dreams melt calmly
like snow fall under sunny winters scorn.
Remorse mocks the sincerity and heartbreak of  
all that i feel. The falling flurry is peaceful
but carefully stifles all but the disturbed and the unhealed.  
 
The price of silence and stillness is the unanswered questions,  
fear and loathing of all the unknown. The guilt of my laughter-  
surviving it all, weighs heavy as the season's darkened afternoons.