It is a clear cold morning in Winter;
I woke with a cold's cough
the sky grows a shade dimmer
from blue skies to grey skies
and my fingers blister.

It is morning yet I feel hopeless
I wake with the day on my mind
in hopes that someone will notice
that today, I was someone,
I look for a way not to feel broken.

It sounds a little too desperate
to text "hey its my b-day"
so I make them guess it
"do you know what today is?"
but my spirits only lessen.

I roll back to bed till afternoon,
I cut the cake with wishes in mind,
I leave a slice like a crescent moon
in case someone suddenly notices
but I finish off that moon.

I cut the cake by myself
with candle-lit wishes
blowing each one by itself
I blow the last with a wish
that ends with the word "help?"

I message "sorry if I bothered you"
with hopes that the response is
"no you didn't" because the truth
is that I am always lonely
so a conversation rubs away the bruise.

I hang on every word I hear
hoping to feel closer to people
but my database of almost non-existent peers
don't make much for conversation
so I pretend I don't shed tears.

Night arrives, the day is at an end
it wasn't as pictured in my mind
nor was I surrounded by friends
but I watched a day of passing lights
and know that it's finally tomorrow again.

The one day I'm supposed to matter is over,
for the last twenty one years it's been the same,
and I hold a torch in my heart for the closure;
but every year I am alone in a dark room
slicing at a cake that was too big for myself
with wishes that asks questions all to well
like "can I have someone who cares about me,
please? Can you help?" but I don't think-
Santa does birthday wishes, nor do falling stars,
and I think God only answers the big questions
so I am left guessing as to who I just sent
my silent candle-lit wishes to.