I sit here alone. And I weep the never-ending tears.
Because they personify my fears.
I fear my mother's impending death; I fear my father's cancer that I might also have.
I harbor hate and anger for my brother's harsh words, fear for my sisters' well beings.
I feel the weight of a pet's upcoming demise.
I dread my soon coming departure, yet I am unable to wait.
My mind tells me to run but my heart says otherwise.
My mother tells me that I'm open with her that I can tell her everything.
Little does she know, I hardly tell her anything.
That in fact she is one of the people that know the least about me and my life.
There are so many things that I want to tell her, but I don't want to upset her last days on earth.
But when she departs to the unknown, i'll just get worse: I know.
I know I cannot be as good without her influence as I am with it.
And I am not even as good as she portrays me to be; I hardly try.
All I want is to get the hell out of this place but I break at the thought of leaving all my friends behind.
When she’s gone I don't think any comfort will help.
So many people tell me that they will always be there for me but it is always a lie.
Because they will all die and leave me eventually.
And so I am:
ALONE.