Another year, spent waking up alone. Another year of being alone. Another year reiterating - you have no family, you have no family, you have no family. Your empty apartment. An unruly mess. Bed and sleeping tablets your only haven and relief. You're a phone call away, telling me you understand, soothing me. While your family ask you to come and join them. I cry silently into the phone, telling you "I'm ok - truly I'm fine. Everything will be better tomorrow." I hold back all that I want to say. I want to cut. I want to bleed. I want to ease this swollen pain welling up inside of me. To see. I'm falling apart, wanting to sleep.
Two years and I'm right back where I started. Waking up alone. You have no family, you have no family, you have no family.
Merry Fucking Christmas.
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