PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

December's Flowers, January's Snows


I thought about him all October

Yearned for him in November

Reaching out for a boy named December

Who didn't seem to exist, at least not anymore

Where did you go?

Was your burden too heavy for you to bear, did you decide to follow the path

Of all the other men in my life who have disappointed me

On the first day of December, I looked at myself in the mirror

I didn't recognize the alien in the mirror, didn't see how she could ever be

Me

I hated her because

She was weak

Willed and Minded

She was a poor reflection of myself, a dead girl standing on the tips of her feet

Craving love

So easy to manipulate 

Feed her your love

And your affection

And her loyalty will spread out and grow like the branches of a tree

And she'll bear rotten fruit, just for you

Where are you my love?

December is here, December is now, why won't you come back

He leaves flowers for me instead

Planting them in my yard, and all I can do is rip them out

Viciously digging at the dirt, till my nails bleed

And I can't see through the tears

The alien in the mirror smiles at me, sly and all knowing

I rip chunks of my skin off to see her screech in pain

I lay in the bathtub, turning it up to the hottest it can go

Praying

No

Hoping

That when I come out, I will be someone different

That December's flowers will die with January and his snows

By the end of this month

I will shed my skin

Rip it off and drop it on the floor like it was a mink coat

And walk

Walk like a goddess, my true form

And I will wait for you December

I'll wait, until the final day

And then I'll let you go

Like flowers releasing pollen in the wind

So that I may finally bloom

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.