What Identity?
Christmas trees being cut down
Only in CT would families go to a tree farm than go to the woods
Well otherwise new precautions would have to be made about the proper use of an ax and
No that plaid shirt and beard doesn’t give you the knowledge of a Mainer
Searching for my identity
or empathy
and jealously praying for either every night
Everyone remembers where the kitchen is
And the snapchats of cliche Christmas cookies begins
Pinterest gets a boom in visits searching for the most hipster looking desserts
But really only five cookies come out the way you wanted them to
Scraps turn into snacks AKA fats
Searching for my identity
or empathy
and jealously praying for either every night
Conversations only about missing family and anticipation of seeing them
That part of my brain that’s supposed to spark with words to join in agreement don’t come forward
Because that absence I’m supposed to feel is inexistent
The thought of the holidays makes me cringe
Searching for my identity
or empathy
and jealously praying for either every night
I was given a plastic purple tree
The stranger didn’t want it and free is always a good reason to take something
I don’t like purple but I need to at least look the part even if my soul isn’t into it
There’s no fear of losing it because its just not there