Christmas Tree by Seungwoo Lee

December 24th. 10PM.

I come out of my room, and I see a christmas tree in the living room.

Frenzied, I scramble to touch the presents

luring me in like a box of chocolates.

My mother holds me back,

tells me that I have to wait until the cold morning of Christmas

n’ let the magic unfold on its own.

I lie down on my bed;

I see stickers etched onto my ceiling, gleaming like a beacon of light.

I try to close my eyes n’ fall back into the darkness, but I

get snatched away by my imagination.

I picture myself

ripping open the presents, showing no mercy for the wrappers.

Now, I look at the yellow, bright star

looming over me;

I stare into my dim reflection, into my eyes that don’t recognize themselves.

I gently sit down;

I just see ornaments scattered haphazardly around the small tree,

little balls that carry a thousand memories.

I turn to the clock - half an hour remaining.

I don’t feel any Christmas magic.

I don’t wait for Santa to drop down my chimney.

I don’t wait for him to fill my stockings with jolly treats,

while I peak beneath my bedroom sheets.

Only, a cold breeze creeps in, silently, through my half-opened window.

It hits me in the face, like a splash of cold water,

and goes back to the future, as though

it had completed its mission.

I think to myself - It’s December 24th.

I

slowly go back into my room

n’ prepare for another day.