Wrote this December 25, 2025. The one thing I wanted this year for Christmas.
no one asked if they were heavy, because I never let them shake.
The house glittered, the food sang, the gifts felt like small miracles in my hands,
but I was set at the edge of the picture, straightening chairs, folding napkins, smiling like a job I was paid for.
Somewhere else, my friends were loud— teenagers spilling into the night, laughing, dizzy, remembered by each other.
I watched through glass made of distance, breathing a world that wasn’t mine today.
Not jealousy, just hunger— the kind that comes when you serve the feast but never hear your own name called across the room.
So when the dishes were cleared, and the laughter softened into walls again, my heart finally exhaled the year it had been holding.
The tears didn’t mean the day was wrong— just that I wanted a seat at the table too, even if I sat quietly,
even if the magic was small, even if all I really needed was:
“We see you. Stay.”
Poetry by Theo_Door91
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Written on 2026-05-12 at 03:03
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Christmas table
I carried Christmas on my back like plates warm from the oven—no one asked if they were heavy, because I never let them shake.
The house glittered, the food sang, the gifts felt like small miracles in my hands,
but I was set at the edge of the picture, straightening chairs, folding napkins, smiling like a job I was paid for.
Somewhere else, my friends were loud— teenagers spilling into the night, laughing, dizzy, remembered by each other.
I watched through glass made of distance, breathing a world that wasn’t mine today.
Not jealousy, just hunger— the kind that comes when you serve the feast but never hear your own name called across the room.
So when the dishes were cleared, and the laughter softened into walls again, my heart finally exhaled the year it had been holding.
The tears didn’t mean the day was wrong— just that I wanted a seat at the table too, even if I sat quietly,
even if the magic was small, even if all I really needed was:
“We see you. Stay.”
Poetry by Theo_Door91
Read 15 times
Written on 2026-05-12 at 03:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Melinda K Zarate |
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by Theo_Door91 Latest textsOnce is enoughChristmas table What if… Drowned in the waves A quiet loss |
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