My Christmas Carol

By Anisha Gupta

https://youtu.be/m-GzcV11iAo

My kind of numb,

It has sorrow for batter,

Guilt for raisins

Betrayal for cashews,

And revenge for rum.

My kind of numb,

It has forlorn for sugar,

Lovelorn for orange zest

Repulsion for charms,

Pot-pourri for a mess.

My kind of numb,

It's the perusal of the lifeless vogue edition,

Clawed-out and rugged for the upholstered love seat.

My kind of numb,

It's the broiling mistletoe over the fireplace chimney.

The sticky berries that I'm about to eat.

My kind of numb,

Its the chilly stockings, stalking the heat.

Chipped wood logs for my body to sit.

My kind of numb,

Is a Farrago of sensations.

Baking in the oven

As a sad black cake.

By Anisha Gupta