Second Second Sunday


Every year
Every
Single
Year
When social media is flooded
When advertisements are endless
When I see so many friends
Rejoice
I shrink
I withdraw
I do not even try to connect
With those like me
Because it hurts
Like stepping on shards of glass
It hurts
The second Sunday in May
Haunts me
This year I try
I try to think of every mother
Who loves
I manage to think
Of my fellow orphans
By circumstance
Or choice
And I dream of my Father
I try to remember those that
Love me
Regardless of blood
And gently
I begin to let the bitterness fade

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