Dear January, Poem by Miss Fairytale

I do not miss you.
Barren land,
Brittle air breaks at breath
Dark dawn, frozen dew.

You give birth to February - the vague child.
You are the finality in conception.
Post-natal depression coats humankind
in syrupy abandon.

Enough winter to freeze bones.
We're caged within nothing prisons.

Hard-faced weather pounds.
Your heartless grip threatens to tear
through laughter, friendly facades.

In your funeral robes you stand
Facing us as a doom merchant
A death dealer,
An abyss where your heart should be.

You clasp our faces
Drag us through spaces
Where nothing exists
Begins or ends.

Where nothing really is
something unexplainable.