Like a cocoon transforms the caterpillar to goo,
before it then changes to its ultimate form
My apartment encloses me until I can’t move,
a blob in a bed needing to be re-born
My winter blues start early, right after Halloween.
All Saints’ Day is when I start to lose hope.
The sunsets get earlier, the people get mean,
except for the weirdos who use Christmas to cope.
For winter, each year, I nestle with sorrow
a shitty old friend that I’ve known since my youth,Â
She gives no body heat or blankets to borrow
Just insults and self pity she says is the truth.Â
The mental lashings continue as a pseudo Christmas gift
Each new year’s day she can snap my resolve
Valentines and Presidents days fly by swift
As my brain and body both quickly dissolveÂ
But then the day comes, when she’s called back to hell
Leaving me beaten in my small cold box
Our alarms rang out ending her winter spell
When together we all turned forward the clocks
The sorrow has gone and the winter has followedÂ
But I’m still a goo in a puddle on the floor
I see my fat in the mirror and my eyes look hollow
I put on my sneakers and jog out the door