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

 

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