Aftermath

it’s the day after christmas
(with everything that implies)

the beauty of carefully wrapped
hopes and dreams
left in tattered shreds
scattered about the living room
we hold the unveiled reality in our hands and think
is this really what i asked for? and
why did you give this to me? and
doesn't anyone know me at all?

Those small sweet things
we placed on our tongues
and shared
have turned to bitter stones in our bellies
weighing us down as we seek to flee
into a landscape once wonderful, white
and silent
now churned up
a harsh and gritty gray
by too many feet
too eager to move on
to the next Occasion

(Aftermath)