She tells me how
I ought to celebrate
my birthday
when she finds out I
rarely do,
the last best
birthday came
when I was 11 and my family
got me the bicycle I
wanted,
a chance at freedom
I didn't get again
until I got my first
car,
and so out of pity,
she agrees to have
dinner with me,
only to cancel the date just
when I got my hopes up
that we might get back to where we were.
I don't know why I'm so disappointed.
It is not as if I felt close,
she creating distance
between us,
already setting her sights
on another who can protect her better,
a blue ribbon first
prize
who curls around her if not for all night,
then long enough to let her ease
into sleep without
panic,
his scent, his warmth, his presence
so real and yet
unreal.
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