A Note To Santa

Hanging the last piece of the Christmas bell

What do I want for Christmas?; I asked myself.

Maybe a sponge cake with whipped cream and cheese.?

Maybe a vacation for two to the Caribbean?

‘You should write to Santa’; tiny whisper from the good angel.

Dear Santa,

I really don’t know what I want for Christmas,

although I want happiness, perfection and not to forget a love that would always last.

Santa this year I’m missing out from the fun part;

my soul occupied a body with no heart.

Days smell like summer; my night winter.

I’m a miss with no mister.

I want someone I could try new recipes with.

Play the game fair and keep the sheets neat.

Santa I’ve been romancing the mistletoe with the scents of my cologne!

The leaves on my skin; wind on my hair; I can call them my own.

I just need a love that would always feel like summer.

Hey Santa I decorated the chimney,

grand entrance for you and Him.

He shouldn’t have any specific quality at all;

well… A smile to make me fall.

Yes, I didn’t forget your milk and cookies.

I dropped two glasses; one for you and one for my Ruby.


“ I bow with my knees kissing the welcome note at your door step

They think I’m crazy, but they don’t know you’re all I have.

You can try a thousand times to read me

but all you’ll learn about me is that I’m nothing but molecules and dust

I tried so hard to shield my heart from those trying to break it.

Making your heart my heart’s fortress

Hoping every man I find would lift some weight off my soul.

I’m 18 dressed in the ways of a woman of 31

I’m not a living sculpture of Michelangelo’s work

Yes I’ve got beauty, yes I’ve got curves

Maybe that’s something that got into my head just a little

You tell me I’ve got mental retardation when I go any length;

but like the analysis of variance; you know me within and between

You know I can’t stop myself from falling.

You know I’ve shared moments with pain as an acquaintance.

You know every cell and vein in me will fight for it’s perseverance.

We see life like a controversy of who could remain the purest,

I signed up for the contest but choose to be the messiest.

If I wake up to a note at my bedside tomorrow with the most commonly used word in my vocabulary,

You can guess what it is; ‘I’m sorry’

I’ve learnt that Fidelity is not of the flesh, but of the heart, mind, and soul.

I’ve been hurt, I mean really hurt, but I can’t help but make excuses for those who treat me with abhorent distastes.

I’m sorry; once again I apologize

Believing it was my actions and words that provoked such anger and response;

I beg for forgiveness

For as summer dances from flower to flower

My lips would be locked with the sound of my heart begging for forgiveness;

Despite the interlocking holes of anxiety and excitement in my stomach. ”

Artwork: IG- risfloat