The holidays have always
been romantic for me
as a poor, single poet.
But I am not anymore.
Still kind of a poet though..
That's why I always felt the need
for a couple glasses of wine
around family members who asked
about how my life was going.
But now I should feel proud to talk.
But I'm still showing fashionably late,
alone.
I don't know why we play out this relationship so differently than other people.
I suppose I let it become this way;
because that's what I thought I wanted.
Although I'm beginning to realize
I have never known what that is.