December, To Me
Sad month
Month of loss, not joy
Month of birthdays
And growing older
Month of promises
Never kept, never kept.
The most sorrowful time of the year
For people with no families
Or families that do not love them
Families on t.v.
Making you look at your barren heart
And silent home
Full of emptiness.
Decembers used to be wonderful
When I was a child
And didn’t know that parents lied
About things that children were led to believe
But there was no Santa and no chimney
For him to come down
Even if he did exist.
It was lies, all lies
And especially………
When they told you they loved you
And then proved they didn’t.
I stopped believing when I was nine years old
And have had a hard time believing in any thing
Since that horrible night
When I was punched in the gut with the truth.
I tried so hard to believe
And to pretend that it didn’t matter
That nothing was real
I tried to make up a whole world
Just the way I wanted it to be
Every December for a long long time.
But in the end, I couldn’t hold onto the illusion
I had to let it go
I let it go that December eleven years ago
When I found out that fairytales never come true
Even with pearl white snow on the ground
And a full moon in the sky
December became to me, forever imprinted on my heart,
The month that good things died
Even as it stood as the month of my birth.
I still love snow
I still love babies
I still love laughing
I still love the moon
I still love love
And every now and then
I let myself gaze into magic
And starlight for brief moments at a time
Before I blow it into prisms of shadow
And watch it fall between my fingers.
I am a child that never grew up inside
Because I was born old
But not by choice
I am a child that never had the chance
To taste true love or feel it touch my face
Because it was always hidden behind a mask of lies
And to this day, I don’t know what it feels like
To be truly loved for more than a moment
Because that is all I have ever been allowed to have
Before the rug is pulled out from under me again.
December is the end of everything to me
The end of the year, the end of dreams
The end of hoping that the new year will be different
From the year before
And it never is, it never is
Every December I feel less needed
And less loved than I did the year before.
Which is funny
Because I love life
I love running and playing
And dancing in snow and rain
I love giving and gifting
And watching the eyes of others light up
When I show them my love
And my thoughtful gift.
And then they are gone
And I wish that I had somebody
That loved me the way I love them
That I had a friend
Exactly like me
That cared for me the way I care for them.
But December comes
And all those dreams go out the window
With the promised snow
That almost never comes anymore
To cover up the sad brown fields of my life
Instead, it comes in with hope
And goes out with hopelessness.
I love friends
I love family
I love sharing myself with others
And helping the helpless and homeless
I love the idea and the ideal and the myth
Of a world with peace on Earth and goodwill to men
But I do not love December
And now you know why.
©
By Voo
December 23, 2012
2:17 a.m.
copyrighted
