As Christmas draws nearer and the weather gets colder, I contemplate on what the season means. To some people it means presents from Santa, reading "T'was the Night Before Christmas", singing "carols" like "Baby it's Cold Outside" "Winter Wonderland" "Jingle Bells" "Grandma Got Ran Over By A Raindeer" "Rocking Around The Christmas Tree" "Have A Holly Jolly Christmas" and many more. To others it means flying to Grandma and Grandpa's place for some homemade pumpkin pie, roasted turkey, stuffing, ham, and mashed potatoes.

I'm feeling those 8,481 miles more than before.
I didn't fully recognize how much I'd miss you
until you had already gotten up and left.
I find myself relaying stories about
all the funny things you've done
I miss your undeniable eccentricity,
nobody can claim that they have a friend like you.
4:40pm Texas time, 3:40am on the "treeless dune of sand".
I wonder if you're sleeping or if you're sitting up, awake,
thinking about coming home or about how your birthday
is tomorrow and you have to spend it in a country that you hate.

Words of a lifetime, what will they be?
Sharp? Gentle? Constrained, or free?
Will they bring back tender memories,
Or a harsh word ill conceived?

A nice word fitly spoken,
A rebuke or a whine;
What will one remember,
When one thinks back in time?

Be careful oh tongue, what you say,
A harsh word will drive someone away.
Will to be sweet, don't let your will sway;
God will reward you in heaven someday.

*******For those of you who have read my short story titled Greater Love this is the story told by Jonathan. He goes into much more detail about things that went on, but then again he had more to tell. :)*******

I. Roots
We’re making plans like I will see him again.
He’s acting like I will.
But where he’s going isn’t good. It isn’t good.
An airplane flies overhead and that’s where he’ll be in eleven days,
in the sky, flying through our uncondensed stratosphere,
thirty thousand feet above the ground, which is where I am planted
like a seed
spreading my roots and growing up,
learning to accept that my friends don’t have to stay planted with me.

Rain that patters not the roof,
Rain that lulls me, soothes me, too
Rain that sings a lullaby,
Rain that makes me want to cry.
Rain that makes me want to sing,
Rain finds joy in everything.
Rain that is goodly for the earth,
Rain that is moody, or full of mirth.
Rain that God gives us in His love;
Showers of blessings from above.

Edit: I wrote this to practice telling a story starting at the present and telling what happened in the past through the characters.
It also happens to be from a dream that I had a week or two ago. :) me and dreams...

As an only child, most people said that I was spoiled, and although I didn't agree with them I guess that they were right. It hurt when people said "no" to me, hurt more than it should have. I became bitter. "Why did my parents spoil me?" I would ask myself. In spoiling me they had made my life harder because I didn't know how to face reality. Now looking back, I realize that I had spoiled myself. I called myself a man because I was tall, over eighteen years old, and my voice had changed to where I could sing bass without "cracking". But what does being a "man" mean?

You are completely consuming my mind.
I want you out now, I want you gone.
I hate it when I feel the impending dread in my chest,
Sinking & plowing down through my organs.
Your exit is nearer than I am prepared for,
I need to see you but I can’t seem clingy—
But I am, I’m clinging, I‘m clinging for dear life,
On the edge, it’s so precarious, and you are so close.
Why did you have to make these changes so abruptly?
I’ve just gotten to the point where I think, “Yes, maybe.”

I. Just a Girl
Get back over here
Don’t talk to her, talk to me
I don’t like the haughty way
She held her head when she
Told you to come closer
I don’t like her
Heavy red lipstick
I don’t like the way
She reached out and
Hugged your shoulders
I don’t like
Her
Flirting with you.