The Christmas tree and all the ghosts that gather around it. The past we lost, the past we suffered, the present we don’t want to face and the future we’re not sure we want,
You could try to guess but you wouldn’t ever know the half of it, though still I stand, silent and unforgiving, homesickness feeding off of the twinkling lights,
My thumping heart, beating relentlessly on, I close my eyes and I see you, I feel you, I miss you
eclectic book talk 