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.