The Tale

The silence in my head.

I'm used to being alone.

When I smoke, someone will ask me for a lighter.

If I bother to put make up on, a drink.

But, I am alone.

I don't remember. 

No nuclear Family.

Some drinking buddies,

but I am alone.

When I see distance relatives at Easter or Christmas-I babble words and thoughts I never knew had entered my head till that moment..

I can see me in them -a little..

and when I speak, I can see their fright!

The fright I don't acknowledge.

Their opinion of me faults and they 'runaway'.

I wish I could too.

I'm sure if I ended it..

they would cry.

It would have been better if I cut myself off.

May be they would know I was similar to them-and that would be frightening!

may be they would have changed?

But I am not them, I'm ME.

Privileged and tragic.

Lives will move on-I will be forgotten.

A tragic tale of the relative who couldn't live.