Life is like your mom planning your 12th birthday party.
You love the fact you have her,
but she managed to invite everyone you hate.
You walk into your living room and you see so many of these faces.
You don't like a single person there.
Stress is sitting calmly in the corner listening to your grandpa's stories,
she looks like they are reminding her of something else though.
You see Depression sitting in a fold-out chair in the corner,
she's already eating food, but you don't know where she got it.
Anxiety has apparently locked herself in the bathroom,
she doesn't want to be here as much as you do,
but your aunt is trying to coax her out.
The cake has your name misspelled,
it reads "Happy Birthday, Feelings!"
but you told your mom it was okay
because things happen.
In your mind, this entire birthday is such a disaster.
Seeing all of these people you hate standing in your home,
at your birthday party,
and seeing your birthday cake,
with not-your-name on it,
makes you want to either puke in someone's party hat,
or just ignore it and eat the cake.
Your mom tried and that's the least you can ask of her.
At least you have one, right?
YOU ARE READING
Where Are My Words?
PoetryMy new poems because my last ones sucked. I went to a slam and was introduced to so many great writers, thought I should start again.
