Do you know the warmth of home during frigid Decembers? An electric candle in each window, packets of Swiss Miss in kitchen cabinets, the allure of spiced tea and sugar cookies and
tiny Lenox houses peppering a window sill or tree skirt?
Or is it trauma response to wrap frenetic memory in a box, layer it with paper, seal it with a bow and a painful kiss, and call it
nostalgia?
How many homes can fear and follow you as you float through walls and mirrors, a ghost of Christmas Past?
You have spent too many thoughts and breaths and sentiments in wishing wells
that choke on your pennies
as you hope again and again
this year will be different.
(It isn’t, and your ghost is homeless.)
//
Top: Thread & Supply
Cardigan: American Eagle
Leggings: Search for Sanity
Scarf: Look by M
Boots: Global Win
wallflower. 
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