There's no hope left.
Do you remember that Christmas I gave you a picture frame with pictures of all the grandkids in it?
Well I do and it was the Christmas I thought to be the last together. I'm still not sure what to think about that day. It was the day our house caught on fire, the day I saw you cry, the firemen thought you were hurting when really all you wanted was your picture I gave you.
No one really understands us, but each other. Even then I'm not sure if you truly understand me.
Everyone says that I'll be alright, when really their trying to hide pain themselves.
Why is everyone, who's hurting, tells me it's fine and act like it's all ok? I know nothing is okay at this point.
-we only have each other
