Holidays

Holidays come
Holidays go
The children were never born,
the misery rises like foam…
one lover’s gone,
the other’s alone,
sitting on a blue corner
and knitting painful fantasies
with memories once sweet…
stroking himself malevolently.

Holidays come
holidays go,
the food gets rotten on the table
set for many, but counting in just one…
no children, no noise,
no love, no sex,
no…that’s the constant…
and it hurts,
how I hate Christmas,
how I hate not having you anymore.