birthdays

Today used to mean something. The whole week, a who's who of
birthdays. It's all faded away now. Spending time in class tied up in
knots. Now I have a headache. Too little food or caffeine or both. For
years after I wouldn't text anyone happy birthday but I'd give it a little
acknowledgement. Now it's like a silhouette. I had to squint to
see it. Or when you leave something at home, just a small itch like that.
I used to give myself a lot of trouble over birthdays. Getting a gift for
birthdays. A desperate expression for how I felt. A penance, really.
Nowadays I can't remember birthdays all that well. I guess there's less
people to know. And I'm even worse about the gifts, I just don't get them.
But it's better than it was before.