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This New Year's Eve
I'm warm in a familiar room
With people I love

They don't know that a piece of me is ripped away
And I should look like an amputee

Thank God they don't have x-ray vision
To see the extent of what I'm missing--
Heart, mind, soul?

Confetti will collect in those voids
As the clock forces me into a new year

The rowdy cheers
The "Happy New Years!"
Will echo in the cavern I disguise

How can I carry this emptiness another year?
Be the curator of this fantasy til the ball drops again?

At the naissance of another year
Perhaps I can be sensible:

I'll refuse to yearn for his voice.
I won't be disappointed when I wake without his warmth.
My hands will not long to tangle his hair.
The sight of him will not cause choirs to sound.
I will appreciate his beauty without needing to possess it.

I'll put a padlock on my imagination:
No more scenarios with him as mine.
This darkness will not eclipse the sun.
I will allow reason to reign over passion.
(But that would be sanity--am I prepared for that?)

"Should old acquaintance be forgot..."

from Chanteuse
December 31, 2009

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