Get Your Premium Membership

Adoptee Victim of the Holidays

Adoptee Victim of the Holidays by Corey Quinn (Chaotic rhyme scheme to match my emotional state) As I enter the home to over salted deviled eggs, loud dogs and poisonous side conversations, the adoptive family quickly unleashes their shallow holiday greetings and stale smiles. The black sheep of the family has entered the home with the people pleaser persona ready to please, and the scoffing house owners covert resentment that you can see for miles. I go straight to the TV gathering because sports takes precedent over discussing the oddities of the human soul. Any emotional releasing of truth from an adoptee to a narcissistic narrative holder, to their image, may take a serious toll. Along with football being the shield to any true connection, the subject of jobs is always a safe bet. Employment talk is a sanitary substitution to life's passions, the path to which an adoptee's heart is truly set. I mention my joy of a piano gig to an adoptive sister's husband who quickly changes the subject. God knows how many complaints they have shared about me as I stay in their minds, they're abundant. It's an unspoken rule that I am not to share my success unless it is theirs that is confirmed to be greater. Their ego is fragile, their understanding is short and their comfort mindsets are baselined at haters. I pretend to be ok as I walk in circles, hitting the appetizers and surface level relations. Only dreaming to myself of real connections and completely conscious of the apparent negative vibrations. It's time to eat and I sit at their kid's table with another outcast who is an overt racist. But not outcasted for his racism, it's his word against mine if I'd ever complain and their distaste for bigotry is forever in stasis. It's time to go home and alone my depression hits, for I long for the compassion of another. I long for a family that knows me well, my pains, my yearning to uncover. I declare Thanksgiving is the last holiday with the adoptives, I refuse to bare them for Christmas. The adoptee chat is my new family now, my allies, my companions, my witness.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry