BIRTHDAYS

 I did not always wonder why I felt this way;

On this supposed special day;

 supposed special and spiritual day

I remember once when I was little it would come and I would feel happy

of late it comes and I wish I was.

Such disorientation on this day;

weak knees, blurry vision; mood bleak, sombre with suspicion 

and then I have to open the curtain to let the sunrays in

as if its rising has anything to do with me being here.

as if its rays were seeking out something in need of healing

and as if... these rays attack me!

"ahhhhhhhh!"

a jolt to my system as if I needed reminding to take in this gasp of air

My birthdays, even though they happen every year

always seem to come unexpected and carry with them such a heaviness in spirit

bags to heavy to carry,

soiled from all the dragging,

painful on my shoulders,

and weighing heavy on my little boyhood stories

I do not cry when this happens

instead I hide away in my own little pocket

and avoid calls and texts aiming to share joy

no cake

no candles

no blowing 

no singing or 

words of affirmation 

just confusion all day while melancholy meanders

"Happy Birthday," I pray

to some force existing somewhere

and on my birthday, I carry myself back to bed and hope tomorrow I am less weary

and with remaining whispers of this 

I am carried 

"Amen,"