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Alone For The Holidays
I sit alone always.
My feet cold in my Walmart boots.
They’re so old, they’ve seen five Christmases.
They used to be brown, now they’re black.
Everyone has someone for the holidays.
Not me.
Am I rude? Ugly? Unfunny?
Does it f**king matter?
People have chums, family or a partner.
I don’t though.
I feel like shit everytime I wake up with zero messages.
Unlike the mass majority, I have zero people who would die without me.
So here I’ll stay.
Alone.
Til I die.
Happy Holidays.
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I guess, as a single sixeen year old, I've never had anyone on the holidays. This wouldn't be so bad if not for the holidays being marketed at as "time for getting together". I family doesn't do that and I am treated like a disease by both men and women (and everyone inbetween). I just couldn't go another Christmas without venting my frustration. Also, nothing I write is happy. I prefer the sad parts of being alive.