end of November

I wake up and realize, today is the last day.

The leaves have all fallen and what’s left are bare branches.

They whistle in the wind, creating an eerie sound, like melancholic laughter.

Nature has turned into a murky brown,

cold, hibernating, almost lifeless.

The grass isn’t as green, and the sky has lost its blue touch.

Everything is seen in relative shades of gray

The next day will be different,

but at the same time, it will be similar, familiar to the past

Except this time, the temperature drops,

Accompanied with it, chilling winds and an arctic soul

November came and went,

but I remain the same.

Maybe December will thaw what’s been frozen shut,

the emotions – passion, joy, spontaneity, fear, longing, trust, love

locked away in the recesses of my glacial heart.

It is like a house, boarded up for winter, housing treasures from the outside world.

Only to be released by the one who shut those treasures away.

only to be unbolted by me.

Tomorrow will mark the first of December.

A new day, a new month, and perhaps a new me.


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