November came and went
So fast it blew through, 
A wind I was not ready for. 
I was left in its wake
Ungrounded, and seeking cover. 

Thieving my purity and light
And left me in chill of night.
Alive, but I’m not quite convinced
That I am doing much living these days. 

As it all replays, 
I am trying 
To find the warmth
Of closure. 

We won the trophy, 
But lost the war. 
Everything that mattered, 
Has now been laid to rest. 

Now, I’ve found myself, 
Building book shelves, 
And burning bridges,
In no particular order.

“You’re just too sensitive”  you say, 
As the warm tear rolls down my cheek.
Flushed with shame and embarrassment, 
I disassociate myself from the words I want to say.. 

I stay silent. 

I swallow the distance. 
Hurt people hurt people,
And I’m better than that.
So I let myself fade out.

The silence is getting so loud. 

I let myself drift. 
Until I get too lost, 
In my thoughts, 
My day dreams.

Piercing winds seek me out
To bring me back. 
But I’m undecided 
If I even want to be brought back. 

November has left it’s wrath, 
And now I am here 
Writing the final chapter.
Building hopeful fires
With dearest December.

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