My Birthday

Today’s my birthday. I’m going to treat myself to a margarita. Or maybe a daiquiri. I’m going to sit by myself and dream about all those things I’ll probably never do. I’ll whisper my wishes to the wind in the hopes they’ll be carried closer to an angel’s ears. And then I’ll wait and ask myself how I got here. This longing will never leave me. On good days, it tastes like honey. Wait, no. It tastes like ripe peaches. On bad days, I’m looking for a white flag to save me from the abyss. Why did you make me this way? I see a void in people’s eyes. There’s no one home. Even when we’re talking, I’m looking for something else and I can’t find it. Though if you ask me what I’m looking for, I couldn’t tell you! But, it’s not this. I know why you made me this way. It’s so that I turn to you and away from them. In another time and place, I’d live exactly the way I want to. I’d find my way to your room. You’ll undress me with your eyes and I’ll feel like the most beautiful thing in the world. I’d wrap my legs around you and you’d take your arms and hold me close. Then you’d take your left hand and squeeze my backside. But, tenderly and not like some brute. I’ll remember how life doesn’t imitate art and just like that, I’m pulled back into this world...where your room is not in our house...but in someone else’s, someone I don’t know, someone who isn’t at all like me. You’re nothing like him, either.