It’s her birthday.
Part of me wants to say “Dear Darling, Happy birthday! Love you lots! Signed, Me”
and part of me wants to rip out my heart, stick a candle in it and give it to her
to say, “here, make a wish, and while you’re at it, blow out the fucking candle that’s keeping this fucking flame alive, cause my heart just can’t take it anymore”
and part of me wonders if she would wish for what I want her to wish for.
I wonder if she would wish for us back.
Part of me wants to say “Dear Darling, Happy birthday! Love you lots! Signed, Me”
and part of me wants to rip out my heart, stick a candle in it and give it to her
to say, “here, make a wish, and while you’re at it, blow out the fucking candle that’s keeping this fucking flame alive, cause my heart just can’t take it anymore”
and part of me wonders if she would wish for what I want her to wish for.
I wonder if she would wish for us back.