Lonely home

I wake up to the four same walls again; like the rest of us nowadays though for me, it's one day closer to eviction, losing my job has clearly taken its toll and divorce proceedings do not help. It's only 4.02am, I think I've had about 30 minutes broken sleep and I'm worrying what the day will bring whilst walls close in around me, I hold my breathe; it helps a little but I nearly lose consciousness I'm unsure whether this is due to lack of sleep or nutrition. At this moment I can't even stomach toast, it seems to lodge itself in my disturbed* throat - trying to tell me I have better things to do with what little time I have left here. Retching on toast and my own vomit, I try and make myself look presentable - throwing yesterday's shrewn clothes on. ©Em