Spoil me with
One
thousand
gifts
And fix my heart with
ribbon and tissue,
All wrapped up
so
I don't lose the pieces
And
It's almost my birthday,
So Tell the little girl me
That
the kids have just
woken up
And that the gifts are just
Waiting,
Broken and torn, and
Opened... Already.
Just for me.
This poem is basically about how life has had it out for me since the moment I was born. Kinda a vague description but im too tired to care. My dad went to jail on father's day and now he wants to apologize to me like it will fix my < 2 decades of abuse. I have to move 3 ******* states away and I can't even bring my cat with me. Happy early birthday, cait-cait. Sorry for ranting I have no one else