Today,
I am older than I was yesterday.
I feel older,
my heart is a weight in my chest,
Throbbing and aching all the while.
People smile at me,
saying happy Birthday.
I cry,
it's my birthday.
Just another day I say,
what's so different from yesterday?
But today they cry,
today is your birthday.
My birthday?
I question,
birthday hmm is that today?
I look at the calendar in the kitchen,
there is something else written by my "birthday"
I go home but no one is there,
"Work" they cry, and
"we'll make it up to you"
Oh right.
I sit in front of the television,
the colours and sound turning
into static-ed blurs.
At 11:30,
I make a cake that I found in the
squeaky cabinet,
I use the kitchen candles to make
a wish on,
lighting them with a match.
And here at 11:52,
tears mingling with sugary
sweet icing,
Using her flowers as tissues,
Happy Birthday.
Happy Birthday to me.
