december snowed ashes and it buried me like i am about to be cremated.
there are a lot of things i am apologetic about: the watchlist i haven’t touched for months, desserts i refused to taste, and destinations i didn’t stop for. regret sticks to my fingers like vintage rings that aren’t my size, resisting to be forgiving of me. so i move with the tightness of these accessories, and i let them be displayed and leave blotches on my skin to remind me of things i allow to die without giving them a chance to be alive. this is my eternal punishment. december, a season of joy and giving, but all i could do is let go and wrap myself with grief and sad songs and poetries. will i be forgiven by the lord if i stain his holiness with such demise? or will he be empathetic of a mourning child of his?
i am sorry. just burn me and place me on a poorly painted vase. leave it on the ground until the dust covers me.
until the dust becomes one with me.