Empty tables, empty chairs.

Bottles left uncorked, empty wine glasses.

Barren porcelain vases with no flowers. Delicate china gathering dust.

Poems never written, words wasted. Sheet music yellowing and torn.

Letters to no one, crumpled, fading. A broken guitar, rusted strings.

Candles left unlit. Pretty dresses, tailored suits, musty and moth-eaten.

Stark reminders of dinners missed, of conversations never had. Signs of memories never made. Of promises never whispered, of hands never held. Marks of broken hearts, of scars unhealed, of futures forsaken. Telling stories of hopes and dreams, left to rot.

Of wasted potential.

Empty tables, empty chairs.

Tonight is a night for quiet. For the beauty of the moon calling out to her waves. For the madness of distance. And the warmth of blankets. Tonight is a night for poetry, for longing, for music. It is a night to let desperation to take over. For calm to come when the frustration runs its course. Tonight is a night for the base and the unruly, for the poignant, the intellectual.

Tonight, let us go crazy together, tear each other to pieces, put each other together. Let us break free, tie each other down. Let us forget it all, and then remember. Let us hold each other tight and let each other go.

Tonight is a night for conversation. For silences. For malice, for beauty. For green-eyed jealousy and honey-eyed lust.

Tonight is a night for me and you. For love and beauty. For whispers and screams. For us.

Come to me love, for tonight, is ours.

December and January are my favourite months of the year.

Not only because it is Christmas time and birthday time. Though those are two major reasons :)

I like them because these months means winter. And winter is my favourite season.

Winter means cold. And cold brings people closer. You find comfort in a friend's hug. Hands are held and stuffed in jacket pockets. You hold people tighter, closer.

Winter is about blankets. About foggy days and mist and walks. About watching the stars when it is cold and revelling in the beauty of a moon playing hide and seek in the clouds.

Coffee and hot chocolate and hot croissants make sense all the time.

Winter is about scarves and jackets and socks and sweaters and gloves and warmth.

And even on the dark lonely nights, when there is no one to snuggle with, winter is about finding company in yourself. About snuggling in with your favourite tv shows or your favourite books. About settling in with some Cohen, listening and thinking and writing. About snoozing the alarm five times every morning because under the sheets is too warm and comfy.

I love winter.