is it just our hearts that make us mortal?

thursday 27th december @ 22:27

tedious shifts at work. days away from the ward on the horizon, although i cannot yet see the sunrise. it is strange to be home again after spending nights cat-sitting at a friend's flat. no purring kitty to ease this lonely season, or to keep me warm in the early hours.

just a cold sense of my own mortality and a need to release my fear.

a new year beckons and although i am stronger already, i have a long way to go.

you are far away, with family that tug at your heart and let you be wanted. i miss the sacred tone of your voice. i do not miss the disappointment as you leave my side again. whose heart is glass now?