Poetry For The Broken

my day

I almost forgot it was that time again—

my special day.

It's no wonder the days slip by,

rushing into nothingness.

I almost forgot I am the birthday girl once again,

it almost slipped my mind that it's a day to celebrate me.

Each year, I think less of cakes,

each year, I think more of my lost dreams and hopes.

Each year, I grow afraid that I'll end up like them.

By "them" I mean those with unfulfilled dreams,

those who accepted life as it is,

and moved on to live in mediocrity.

Today is one of the loneliest days,

when I look back at how far I have come—

or how far I haven't.

Today, I close my eyes for a wish,

wishing desperately for a miracle,

for some bright reason to believe in again.

Today, I whisper a quiet "happy birthday" to myself,

and let the silence answer back.