Amy.

Popping pills and seeking thrills
These days I know little else
I am not sober; I can’t remember the last time I were
I’ll take anything you have, I’m not picky
Anything to keep out the cold.

Sleep? What is that?
You need to keep one eye open on the streets
I have learnt first hand
Bad people can be strangers pretending to be friends.

I never wanted this and I suppose you are thinking I had a choice
You might be right
But if I hate myself anymore
I would loose all hope that I might still be able to fight.

The women that walk past me
Their outfits put together
A bag to match their shoes
An outfit to match their life
Where are they going?
Who are they going to see?
So busy being happy
They do not notice me.

Four years have passed
Everyone I knew has moved on
They used to try and help me
I probably should have appreciated them more
They have stopped now.

I hate this voice in my head
The one that craves the pity, the sympathy
I’m not strong like all of you
I never could be.

Winter is just around the corner; I dread it every year
At first I loved the twinkly lights
The buzz around the streets
Everybody so cheerful
Some even cheerful to me
But when that fades and I’m alone again
I remember what I’ve lost
Flooded with memories from way back when.

This year will be different though
I feel it in my bones
I’m shivering
A sign I’m still alive
I want to go back home.

Photo by Laura Lauch