Blah. Christmas.

I am not excited for Christmas.

When did Christmas morph into such a corporate event? At one point, it was about spending time with your loved ones, passing on joy and prosperity, and miracles.

But now.......... It's just a chore.

This is sinking into you.

Lolz at me thinking I can write poetry.

Withered and resigned, you retire for the day.
Burrowing into the safeness of your home.

Time for reflection is not required,
for apprehension keeps near.

You sink into sleep, your mind far too troubled to keep abuzz.

Though your body has been keen on repose,
you find yourself just as tiresome as before.
The weight of guiltiness has yet to cease.

Frustration a constant burden at your side,
you make your way through the day,
simply shoving away any matter that requires your attention.

You continue to harm,
doing so knowingly, never afraid of repercussions.

For what can they take from you that you are unable to replace with ease?

Heat.

This is short, and very abstract. Whole bunch of random words.
I just got out of the shower, sat down, and typed this up. Enjoy.


Slip into the water, my love.
And feel what I want you to feel.

Imagine as you:
Bask in the glorious heat spilling forth the head,
warmth trickling down the delicate curve of your body and soul,
bathing you in light.

Imagine:
The moment of silence as you are possessed- claimed by this rush of heat,
sending waves of desire coursing through your core.

Imagine:
The warmth running dry,
as you stand in the cold remnants of me.

Imagine being me.