The dinner table is crowded.
There are bowls of gravy, potatoes and greens -
Plates of meat and stuffing...
Don’t worry it gets better.
Juice and cider instead of wine.
Clean crystal cups and thick napkins,
All trimmed in blue.
Surrounded by loud elephants
Dancing on the words we don’t say.
The elephants slip on peas,
And sip my drink.
My relatives give glances
Instead of embrace.
The conversation gets heavy
As our stomachs get full.
The dinner table is a stage
Instead of a refuge.
We all wear our masks and pretend we’re OK.
The actors are well paid in self-loathing,
And pain;
Solitude.
Relationships that don’t fit into pockets
Because our phones are too important.
We are broken and shattered,
Unwilling to be fixed.
The elephants dance in gravy,
And pretend it’s a bath.
"At some point it doesn't matter who was right and who was wrong. At some point, being angry is just another bad habit, like smoking, and you keep poisoning yourself without thinking about it.” - Jonathan Tropper