The World of Myth Magazine

I walk through the door
Footsteps echoing my emptiness
I see the tree lights are on
The unwrapped presents
Still lying on the floor untouched

It's December twenty-sixth
And I've lost the fight
The Greyhound left at five a.m.
The kids crying as they board
Me crying as my world shatters

I look again at the Christmas tree
My anger no longer controlled
It lands on the sidewalk
The ornaments exploding on impact
My heart mirrors the fragmented glass

Quietly I close the door
I stack the gifts neatly in a closet
Living my pain, I take all the pills
I go to bed to cry myself to death
Sadly I awake two days later.

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