Alone, I’m sitting.
A rock in the snow, how fitting.
With a heavy heart, I’m sipping.
I’m falling down and tearing up.
My woes swimming inside my double cup.
With others, I’m still by myself.
I can’t afford to go out with no wealth.
Why am I apart from them? I don’t know.
To a land without snow, I strive to go.
I try and try, but to the truth, I’m denied.
Again and again, I strive for their lies.
And I wonder why as I sit alone.
December 7, 2018: I just absolutely love being excluded. The drain of watching everyone else around you enjoy something that you weren’t invited to is below nothing else. I’d rather not be involved when my friends are enjoying something. In fact, I’d rather just be alone than with anyone else. I love being hurt.
