i hate that day that comes around every year.
that day that is said to be the best day
the day you should be treated properly...
the day you should be recognized...
the day that everything puts up to be..

no

that day, is not any different than yesterday,
or tomorrow as a matter a fact.
you get a couple gifts and a couple polite smiles
but it will never be different.
i hate when that day comes

lets me know that i've made it even further though.
lets me know that i'm one year closer to understanding
that i will never understand it.
lets me know that i am not different...
that i am ordinary and people can predict me.

my birthday.

she will say "where would you like to eat tonight,
you get to choose." and i get so many choices.
but i still get the same thing every time.
grilled cheese and fries. so this time it'll be at home
and i will have to listen to everyone talk about insignificant things

i will have to listen to them pick at me for things that bug me
things like [him] and how they want to know who [he] is.
things like how my [broken] life is oh-so-tradgic
things that will make me realize why i like music at the table
things that make me realize how i want to punch my brother in the face

like when he exposes to everyone that i have [him]
next he'll expose what i did to myself.
he has before, but only as a joke...
"Why Anna, because you cut yourself at night?"
and the littlest one laughs and mokes me.

it's very funny.

it will [NEVER] mean anything more then just a DAY.
it always will be just a DAY nothing more,
nothing less. don't try and make up for things
because you wouldn't if you didn't even know.



it doesn't mean anything if you were reminded.