Is it really a happy new year,
if I wasn't finished with this one.
I didn't achieve enough.
I didn't change enough.
You won't catch me making
a resolution;
life has yet to let me make one decision.
And forget nostalgia.
There isn't any here.
I am trying not to feel sorry for
myself as I sit here alone on
New Year's Eve.
No people, no drinking.
Just me, and a little ****,
and my hand still pulling out my hair.
Plucking away my bangs with ease.

Ah.