Good Bye

Frost tinted the windows of the desolate house. A now broken home. Once occupied by a loving family, but now only by diseased rats and bitterness. Such is what happens in life, once you stray away from the warm, glowing embrace of the familiar. It didn't have to be this way. It really didn't. But you kept on pushing on the glass. You knew it was going to break eventually, didn't you? Of course you did. Yet you kept pushing. Then it breaks and cuts up your hands, and you're left with no one to blame but yourself. But of course you won't blame yourself. Who would? No, it's a survival instinct. Instead, you swung your bloody hands, covered in the shards of your failure, and you struck at the one's that you held most dear. Your father. Your husband. Your children. Your brother. And now you're truly left all alone. Alone in the now broken home, with frost tinted windows. Alone with no one but the diseased rats who sip the drops of your blood, and the bitterness that oozes out of the dead happiness you murdered. I would have mentioned you earlier, when I mentioned the rodents. But, you see, you don't deserve the acknowledgement of existence. To me, to your family, to everyone including yourself, you are nothing.

So stop feeling sorry for yourself and make me a sandwich.