New Year's Eve, two thousand twelve.

A night full of hope, joy, wonder,

but I was all alone.

My father, asleep,

too angry to stay awake.

My mother, drunk,

too careless to remember her children.

My sister, laughing,

too young to understand.

Me, crying,

too old for the body I lived in.

Today, life is brighter.

I know that now, my circumstances?

They do not determine who I am.

So, chin up, buttercup,

because this too shall pass.