I hate the holidays.
It's the time of year
to spend time
with your loved ones.
But I don't love anyone
and no one loves me.
Or rather, I don't feel loved.
I've never seen love in action.
I've rarely heard the words,
but the times I have,
they seemed hollow.
I brushed them off because
they felt more like asides
than heartfelt endearments.
I sit in the company of family,
only in relation
not by sentiment.
The trading of gifts
reminds me how little
I am known by others.
If they truly understood,
they would not present
something so unconnected to me.
I hate the holidays:
the fake smiles,
the pretending to like each other,
the fallacy of it all.