idk if i can call this poetry

9:38am

i can feel the sorrow leak from my chest like thick syrup
when i realize that
i know you aren't going to be my birthday present.

of course i have known this all along,
but i had a little seedling of hope that grew somewhere inside of me.

but now i know it isnt you.

i dont want to seem ungrateful for whatever it is that i do receive,

but what a joy it would have been
to get you
for my bittersweet sixteen.