A Year of seldom Cranberries
It's been a year, I'll write something to see you off with this time.
I have a habit of not living in the moment, and another letter goes in the void.
You'll never see this letter in your hands; I shall not dwell on this much;
nothing will ever be the same, we'll grow.
Did you eat consistently this year around, did you when you look back?
How's family?
The worms feel ever more pronounced in my head with each passing year.
The only chance of aid I had is nowhere to be found.
I can sit and mourn but nothing will come of it.
I wish I could pick a side,
I wish I didn't have to.
Will another year pass like this, and every other too?
You told me to live when everyone else threw me to die.
How can I not feel this way?
Someday breathing will come more naturally to me.
If one day you change your mind drastically, make the trip;
it's never too late.