Again
I have been here before
This place, this time
It feels the same
My heart feels the same
The date is the same
The year is different
What does it matter
The traditions of this day
Cause more pain and
More questions than necessary
I fall victim to this celebratory
Time again and again
It means nothing to me anymore
Once it was the hope
The expectation
Of things to come
Now it is a chore
A day to be spent alone again
Every year for whatever reason
It is inconsequential
It is underwhelming
It is dull
Next year I will disappear
From time and space
So I do not have to answer
Those inevitable questions
Christine Bolton