Damn you, December, 
dancing, diving angels and everything up in flames
or frozen like icicle daggers that drive home their points
like a stake in the heart that isn't even mine 
but that I am forced to feel
as I listen to the ringing
of your silence
echoing with
their bold, persistent reminders
that I am strong, I belong
to the love that transcends present darkness and time.
I hang in the balance by such a thin thread and would gladly cut
it clean and fall into forgetfulness if only
to damn December.