Tomorrow marks 17 years since you lost your fight with cancer.
17 years without a mum.
17 years of hurt, pain, suffering. 17 years missing you.
17 years of missing you.
17 years of grief and still not really grieved because I wasn't allowed as a child and now I just don't know how.
17 years without hearing your voice or seeing your smiling face. 17 years without your cuddles that would make everything better.
17 years with a broken heart.
17 years of wishing you were here.
17 years and yet I'm still that broken little 12 year old girl.
17 years of wanting to die to be with you.
17 years of somehow surviving but not really living at all.
17 years of being weird and misunderstood because no one really can understand this.
17 years of standing out for the wrong reasons.
17 years of scarring my body as a way to bear the pain.
17 years of not knowing who I am.
17 years of anger because you left me when I needed you.
17 years full of loss and grief, over and over.
17 years of trying to make you proud.
17 years of failure.
17 years, and the memories are fading.
17 years, and I think I'm forgetting you.
17 years, I'm scared I'm losing you.
17 years but I'm not ready to lose you.
17 years.
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