Young Writers Society

On My Birthday

As I blew my candle,

and cut that velvet cake,

As adulthood embraced me for a fondle,

I embarked on a journey I didn't want to make .

I wanted to relive

those good old days again .

I wanted to be a child again.

I wanted to be that little girl

who used to play with dolls,

who used to wear frilled tutus

and wish over shooting stars .

I wanted to be that little girl

who used to adore Disney princesses,

who used to dance with cardboard cut-outs,

and long for her mother's bouncy tresses .

I wanted to be that little girl,

who used cry over a broken sand-castle,

who used to gleefully chase butterflies

and fuss over glasses of milk .

I wanted to be that little girl,

who used to wait for the day to die ,

Not to embrace sleep,

But for grandma's enchanting lullaby.

I wanted to be that little girl ,

whose eyes spoke of freedom.

whose laughter sounde like Mozart's Symphony,

and whose eyes glimmered with hope .

Now ,

I see myself as the candle ,

And my golden childhood as the melting wax .

Like the Wax, it gave me a purpose ,

But today, it has retired into an eternal lapse.

I turn around and look .

Everyone seemed so content .

Everyone seemed so complete .

But why did I feel so hollow ?

Like something had died inside me ?

How could I ever be an Adult ?

With the ghost of my younger-self

Still lingering inside of me ?

They say that Time heals all wounds .

Will it heal this troubled spirit ?

Will it apply the balm of acceptance ,

Over this spirit of negation ?

I glance at my picture

Hanging by the wall.

She smiles at me .

I smile back .

And that's the end of my birthday .

© Ejay 2017 .