Set Her Decor

Winter Wonder Medleys,
they float & pass her bye.
Walking pompous formation,
they add to her cries.

Not a soul cares,
about her innard whine.
The one haunting idea,
that she cannot hide.

Another bright holiday,
coming even sooner.
Its as if the pain,
Sets to ruin deeper.

Bursting out her sides,
ruining her figure,
flooding through her eyes,
pushing her to linger.

This Christmas story,
rewound & ready,
playing over again,
set to destroy her steady.

No one knows her story,
the innard wane.
Deep dark hurt,
too hard to raise.

She can't keep on,
no longer face the tore,
she cannot stand,
to live with closed doors.

But this November Holiday,
she dialed to be drained.
Spoke but a minute,
and met eternal pain.

This early Christmas Story,
when the music plays,
decorations set,
and it always rains:

She will now set the sore,
The never ending pain,
finalize her decor,
and cut deep that vein.