Picture Perfect Exemption (A Christmas Muse)

Dark and snowing, I keep to myself among the festivities.
Snowflakes dance outside the lamps; a flickering Waltz.
The cheer and happiness of smiling faces eludes me.
My skin tingles and numbs as I wait on the corner.
I stand on bated breath for your presence.
See, your smile is my Christmas; your heart, my Yuletide.
Without it, the ghosts of you and I are summoned.
An hour passes and fades into the ebb and flow.
An eternity between the lines of contentment.
This season means little to the damned.
But to you, it hangs on every word of joy.
I hunch over and draw elaborate nothings in the snow.
Evoking the spirit of patience with my furrowed brow.
The clock tower chimes what I already knew.
I stand and stretch out the kinks of the cold.
And then I hear the bells ringing...

My fingers clench as I hear the news.
The Yule log burning inside me extinguished.
You finally found that love I never provided.
A timeless break in the monotony for you.
Who could hold you accountable?
You wanted a perfection on canvas.
I could have been the man in that painting,
But life dealt me a frozen hand.
I pace the street; a plague within the revelry.
The colors wash and fade to gray.
The sounds cease to keep me attentive.
I lurch into the shadows towards my sanctuary.
The alley my refuge from the sight of all.
Erased from the picture of love and hope.
While I'm glad you found your inspiration,
I regret that I could never be your Rockwell.