Family at Christmas.

There are far too many of you.
I am painted over.
I am wallpapered in your presence.
Christmas is: painting and decorating.
I am trussed up with tinsel.
I am hung, stuffed with cloves.
Wrapped and well-ribboned.
Dripping with mincemeat.

I am ashamed.
Another year.
I am done up.
Overdone.

I become misshapen. Disgusting.
I turn away.
If I am lost it is in these smiles.
If I am shy; if I am shy-?
I am never shy!
I am so shy.
Accepted, I have no place at the table.
I am the newcomer.
The outsider.
There are not enough chairs.
I do not remember why I am here.
I do not remember you.
Is this your baby?
Who's baby is this.