every time i breathe the air

my heart -- sort -- of breaks

the icy kiss that stings my lungs

does make my spirits -- sink

​

yet there's beauty in the sadness

a lustre in the tears

indeed do either ever fade

or dull through many years?

​

the wistful wintry weather is

that of a bygone night

when even the most bitter winds could

not trump the cold inside

​

i promised to be happy but

thorns riddle christmas wreaths

though a callus had been formed before

hurt festers underneath

​

oaths to abandon old regrets

serve to reopen sores

an image of your once beloved

will torment me -- ever -- more --