P r a y T e l l s

Christmas Confession

The tale started with me writing.

True feelings of kept loving.

Words and soul got into wrapping.

Gift of heart hidden in boxing.

It was made just for you.

It was from me who love you.

It was a last Christmas confession.

Writing, wrapping, and hoping.

This wasn't a story of me.

This is a story tale of being with you.

A story of my words from heart.

Who got to spend Christmas with you.

I remember doing a jar full of star origamis.

Snipping, cutting, and stuffing different paper colors.

I, Like, and You the titles of my three letters.

Put my diary inside for you to know all my feelings.

Too foolish of me to say to bring back my diary.

Still I said to you to read it.

Because it's close to my heart dearly.

Now I'm too shy to remember what I wrote about you.

That's how I spent last Christmas with you, inside a diary.

I always hope that you liked the shape of my love.

A love that's in a shape of my writings.

Full of fond memories, all beautiful and sardonic things.

As sweet and delightful I want this to keep on going.

All stories has its different ending.

In my tale's case, it only has one chance of Christmas.

I always wonder if you ever think of the foolish lady who gave you all her stars.

-fai