Unlit Christmas trees contain next year’s
expectations emphasising this years’ went
unfulfilled. Happily ever afters’, sold out,
on top of worn out foundations.
Rumours spread: change brings sadness and
pain. Soothed by imaginary visions, barricaded
by seasons of luxury and joy, resenting generations
that provide charity or real life fairy tales.
Anxiety filled phone calls made to remnants
of people we used to know. Rented families
make the beauty pageant. Borrowed money
buys presents that get robbed the next day.
Festivity reminds the lonely just how lonely
they are. The suicide queue starts. Everyone
asks why didn’t they just say? Because there
was no one to listen, anyway.
– L.J. Lenehan –