None of my friends said “happy birthday”

None of my friends wished me a happy birthday
And I forgot to do the laundry, my stained black dress
I contemplated if my life was a mess
But I wanted to be positive from now on
The kind of girl that tries pretty lingerie on
With the curtains closed and the Christmas lights shining
To feel so divine, so divine
Whether or not you’re mine, you’re mine
You’re not mine

None of my friends knew it was my birthday
The same way they don’t read my poetry
It’s a tiny bit saddening to me
I don’t want to wallow in my own spit
Don’t want to produce a habit out of it
Want to come home to all the lights shining, lit
I can’t get over it

None of my friends got me gifts for my birthday
You know all I really love are greeting cards
A present without one is no present at all
Yet no presents at all doesn’t feel so bizarre
It’s always been this way as far as I can tell
My worth as a person, that’s a value I can’t sell
I can’t get over it
I can’t get over it

I want to come home to all the lights on, lit
I want to run circles around my friends and say “tag, you’re it”
I want a celebration of my birthday to be a habit of it
I can’t get over it


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