Birthday poem.

Happy Birthday to you.
You know I love you.

And I have known you,
Much longer than I ever thought I would.

But this time, I did not send you anything,
So not to create more memories.

I gave you a part of me,
None now could ever receive.
Everyone else, sorry.

Another year, and I still !  funny what it used to mean.
When anxiously we anticipated.
I do my best to hide away,
Numb myself to avoid that pain.

I was not prepared for this,
Who could be?
Despite what some people thought.

But I wish you to know,
That not a day goes by,
Not a thought escapes,
A version of history I wish to make,
That leaves us where we were.

I sleep alone every single night now,
And sometimes I wake,
Reaching for an empty side.

How your head fit on my shoulder,
Puzzle pieces cut in hell,
Now in this bed alone I burn,
Just as well.

I hope you can be satisfied,
With another holding you,
I hope he makes your family happy,
Something I could never do.

I will linger here a while,
List-less, love-less, longing,
For just a short while, accept denial,

Come back to me, please.
Come back to me,
Come back,

Nothing.

Nothing.

I regret.  Nothing.

I love you now as much as the first time it ever appeared in text.

this is not a poem.
this is not a blog.
this is not to be explained.
this is pain.

…..this matter is closed.

(how can I explain this rarity. or how there will never be parity?  I cannot.  So the missing piece rolls on, never, ever, ever, to find a proper shape.  I knew I would pay, the very second I looked upon your face.  It may seem to you that I do not care, and you may feel that I do not try, but believe me when I say to you, I lie, I lie, I lie.)

**another repost.

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