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Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

thank god it’s christmas

this is the night
i must forgive you

not for your sake
or mine

no
i’m endeavoring to do this
for my sons

they don’t deserve
to have their mother destroyed
a woman laid to waste by poisonous contempt
numbed with bourbon and burning stakes

but see
i know you won’t get that
a mother loving her sons
and i’m sorry
it seems to be causing you a bit of trouble

but i’m tired of mourning you

i have somehow become
your unmarked grave

so
i dig deep
i dig so fucking deep
nails scraping dirt and jagged stones thrown
to remember

your sweetest
words spoken

to make me smile
in the darkest hours
whenever i was full of agony
distance or fear

even in mid-July
especially in mid-July

bright side ironic
you would say,

“Thank god it’s Christmas, eh?”

yeah, baby

thank god it’s christmas

i wish you endless peace

now i can walk away

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