~First part (the bolded part) was written on my birthday, October 19th. I never finished this poem until now because...I just didn't really want to. I was already depressed enough so...yeah~
Some of you may know that today,
October 19th, is my birthday.
Whoohoo. So exciting.
I'm 15 years old now. Great.
Yeah, I don't sound too excited do I?
It's 'cause I'm not.
I hate my birthday.
Especially when people try to
tell me it isn't my birthday.
That my birthday is in November.
Bruh, I am pretty sure I know what day
I was born, unless my whole life is a lie.
My friend of three years,
sixth to eighth grade,
told me on my 13th birthday,
in eighth grade,
that I was born in July.
No, but that isn't the worst of it.
My other friend,
the one who says that I am her best friend,
kept saying "it is not your birthday,
you are joking."
Hmm...
Actually yes, yes I am joking.
My whole life is a joke
so why not have this be
the last determining joke.
Because I totally don't know my birthdate,
don't know what day it falls on the calendar.
No,
I wasn't born on this date,
fifteen years ago,
YOU ARE READING
Body {Prose Vol. 1}✔
Poetry❝A struggle with body image is a study of physicalities and of the mind itself, for the mind plays with what the eyes perceive. The body, mind, and soul are connected, and it is up to us to determine how to respect them.❞ - Me These writings are my...
