XPost: alt.arts.poetry.comments, alt.poetry

Exile

Christmas morning 1995
About six months
into exile
Still some hope
And a whole lot of love.

Delivery of presents
Santa myth trashed
for my children
Not my design
Against my will.

Got the okay to stop by
I step in from another world
Bearing gifts
Smiles to mask
my smashed heart.

Memory and dreams
This may pass
But the final statement
The final f**k off gesture
To me.

Proof that I was no longer real
I no longer belonged
Was not that
I didn't get a gift
Not a single one.

But when I asked her
She said she had
given him a shirt.

Black day
December 25 1995
I sucked it up
Smiled at the kids
with holiday toys
Tried to hide
my nightmare of pain.

Sat in my old spot
North side if the sofa
Smiled a goodbye
And walked away into the big
The moor
To Shadowville,
already dead inside
Never to return.

-Will Dockery

***

(Trolling by Cujo snipped, original text restored.)

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