The circuits of my mind are flickering golden- pink-blue like the Christmas lights outside the slushy streets. It’s a beautiful blur as we pass by, windows pelted by sleet-snow-wetness like the tears trying to escape my sockets. For it just isn’t the same as it used to be.
A year ago from this moment, I recall feeling warm. A warm mind wrapped in light layers because the heart and body had additional heat sources.
Stringing the lights has become a giant tangle of emotions that I have yet to sort out. For it feels like my minds dusty. Tinged by spider’s web and bittersweet nostalgia for things that can no longer be.
I’ve been in the attic too long, but I am but the missing box that hasn’t been unearthed. I can smell the fresh baked treats and the crispness of pine and peppermint. I can see the glimpse of joy around everywhere beneath me. The fire is crackling and the sole serotonin is flashing on and off threatening to end the entire row of colorshow.
They grab me from the attic smiling. Relieved they have found me, they rejoice in my light. They straighten me out and give me the prime place at the hearth. They replace my loose lighting for I am cherished.
I am not broken beyond repair.
I am a multi-colored treasure who is working on feeling worth loving again. More than just a decoration, I am a part of the holiday magic that at one time was easy for me to indulge in.
The inner coldness won’t last long as I come alighted.