pollut(i)on

one day
into the new year
all i feel
are the same scars
the same wounds
the same longings
the exact same fucking emptiness
of the years prior

the only thing new
is

the calendar

so pardon me
if my festive new outlook
is clouded
by the same dreary depression
as before

i cannot be bothered
to dress it up
with
shiny sparkles and glitter

glitter just chokes
the oceans
with tiny particulates

haven’t we
polluted it enough
as is
without adding
false hope to the mess

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