For my Appreciation;

For my Appreciation;


Today
I thought would be different.
Everything was under
different circumstances.
It's the first time
I've truly been alone
on my birthday so far.


I had to work today.
I'm still in training
so I had to go.
I wanted to go
because I'm confident
in this decision
and they even sang the song
brining a slight red
to my face.
I try to hide it
so well.


I had a package
stuffed through my mail slot.
Gifts from parents
and one from my brother.
I cut it open.
Carefully.
Not to slice
perhaps if there were
cards inside.
There were.
And I kept my eyes shut
because I wanted to read them
first
before looking
at the unwrapped
gifts.


And tonight
a friend baked a cake
and we'll gather
at her place.
Sing the song.
Play the games.
Maybe open something.
Maybe.
But I'm not
gonna build
my self
up.


No
we only
hurt
our selves
that way.


Each birthday
I've ever had
has felt this way.
I'm trying-
fumbling to explain.
But it's not caption-able
by the words I know.
It's a feeling of
vagueness,
ambivalence,
expectation,
and loss,
and bursts of fun,
and of attentiveness,
and listening,
and wandering,
and lingering,
and conversing,
and the list goes on
and I'm the
popular wallflower
not talking
but the centre of events.


But I'm learning to appreciate it.
Without you.
To appreciate what I have
without you.
And although it makes me well
up
and burst with tears
at the thought
I'm learning to deal with this callous behaviour.
It must be hard I know,
but you can only imagine
what you're sharp scissors did
just days before now.


Any other time
and we both know
I'd still be sad,
but thank you
I appreciate it days
before my birthday.


You have your cake now
eating it too.
I'm having a slice
and it still tastes sweet,
because roses are roses
even when dosed
with chocolate.


But I'm learning to appreciate
all those things before,
those things that sing
and converse,
and comment,
and post,
and smile,
and gift,
and laugh,
and still argue,
and get annoyed,
and set me straight,
and appreciate
me
like I'm learning to do so now
with them.


I don't call quits.
I never do.
So don't take it as a warning,
see it as my lesson.
I'm passing flying colours
blinding
exploding from white
from which it came.


Look at me.
I'm 24.


-Matthew Koutzun