Christmas Lights

sometimes my thoughts are like christmas lights
with a broken timer that is set to three in the morning
when the neighbors and my family are asleep in their beds
and the lights shine through my bedroom window as if
they are reminding me that they are there and ready

sometimes my thoughts are like christmas lights
twinkling and shining: glimmering and beautiful
or they’re turned off: dark and made of plastic
either way, I only put them on display once a year

sometimes my thoughts are like christmas lights
that everyone looks at from their green mini vans
they are pointing and trying to pick out the best ones
and later they will rip them from the side of their house

sometimes my thoughts are like christmas lights
packed away in a box that is gathering dust in the attic
wrapped in tangles that were meant to be piles
an organized mess that waits for me to open the box