Healed.

Fixed.
It's fixed.
Not broken.
I feel repaired.
I'm once again whole.
The pain has subsided.
The wound has finally healed.
Left just a scar of yesterday.
A faint and unnoticeable scratch.
The injury ran so deep, now it's gone.
You took it's place, now you're here, once again.
I smile a truly true smile.
The old mask now collecting dust.
Now I'm happy, I promise.
I am now complete.
I feel better.
Finally.
I am.
Healed.

Never.

We all have stories we'll never tell.
Lessons we'll never learn.
People we'll never forget.
People we'll never forgive.
Love we'll never receive.
Love we'll never lose.
Heartaches we'll never heal.
People we'll never get to be.
And lives we'll never, ever get to live.

Bri.

December.

When everything else perishes, I come to life.
When the world outside freezes, I begin to thaw.
When December arrives, so do I.

Bitter winds slice through empty branches.
Frost blankets every reflective surface.
Snowflakes swirl silently.

Christmas lights twinkle merrily in the pitch black night.
Fresh emerald trees tower over our heads.
Winter wonderlands welcome.

When flowers crumble, I bloom.
When skies become grey, I glow.
When December arrives, so do I.