Family vacations are hell. 

A bloody nightmare at best. 

Next to the couple making out 

And getting the title worst dressed

I’d rather be home with the snow not sand

They put a napkin on your lap for you. 

What the heck man?

New year, same old habits, nothing ever changes here. 

Oh, and there my uncle goes to get yet another beer. 

The decor is a nightmare, too extravagant and grand. 

I wish I was home. 

I don’t like holding their hands. 

Photos on Facebook of my whole family grinning. 

I’ve gotten good at forcing smiles,

#notwinning

2020

It’s been a wonderful year. 

Despite the global pandemic and crap here and here

I actually love New Year’s

Despite what most think. 

It’s the people

Who drive me nuts in a blink. 

Would it really be that hard to have me stay home one year?

Does it really make a difference if I’m not here? 

When’s the last time you heard of it snowing on a beach?

At home, in a desert, they have 2 inches at least. 

Everyone around me is drinking lager and champagne. 

The smell of cigarettes is like surround sound again. 

I know I shouldn’t complain since it’s a nice hotel

But I can’t help but feel like I’m trapped in a cell

I love to travel but never here again. 

I am so very done with these people and their friends. 

2021

I hope it’s a better year. 

I think I might be more cynical than ever I fear. 

Whoever’s getting on a plane out of this hole

I envy you more than a snowman in the cold. 

I’m so isolated in a room full of souls 

Language barriers I put up myself will hold. 

Some think I’m antisocial 

They’re right in some ways. 

I’m just done dealing with the crap 

That humans create day by day.

Sparkly dresses and button up shirts,

Hair all let down and terrible short skirts. 

“No ones in the room” must be their train of thought. 

I want to say “Get a room or I’ll lose it,” But I was taught 

To be kind to those who drag you on family excursions 

And to love one another no matter the person. 

They’re talking U.S. politics now but I wrote a poem about that. 

Our Nation’s a mess so send the year off and drink to that. 

I’m starting to feel like I’m writing my own version of “Take it Back” 

I can see why Ed Sheeran raps in it so fast. 

I feel like storming out and screaming 

Instead I’m writing a poem. 

Emotions get messy the longer you hold them. 

I guess it’s a needed release at the end of this year. 

So here’s to 2020. 

The best worst year.