They merrily gather around the brightly-lit dinner table
Eating, drinking, laughing
Reminiscing about the good old days
I lie in bed
Counting the cracks on the ceiling
The children play innocently
Happy to see their aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma
Sometimes they even ask aloud as who
The nightmares of childhood
Still haunt my
They love to gossip about me
Telling one another that I'm bitter
In need of salvation
I seldom leave my room
Quiet as a shadow
Avoiding them like a vile
Somehow I have become a
In my home.
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