I think
the first time
I was disappointed
by birthdays
was when I turned
10.

I wake up,
and I expect something
to feel different,
something to click.

I expect something inside of me
to say,
"You’re one year older!
Can you feel the maturity,
and everything else you’ve gained?"

But
I feel nothing.
I feel nothing but
the empty beat of my heart
waiting to feel
*something.