Birthdays

Birthdays, a mark of passing time.

Counting all the years you metaphorically climb

Until your time is up

But I hold a different view.

You see I wasn't suppose to see 18.

Suicide was the destiny for me.

Then that age became 21

But God or fate or whatever you believe had other plans

Now here I am at 25 

And still I don't always want to be alive.

Suicide rattles around in my brain

20 some attempts later.

But when my birthday rolls around each year

I get excited for what is here.

The start of something new.

A mark of change.

There's no going back or hitting rewind.

Life cannot be nickel-and-dimed.

All there is, is what is ahead

And what one chooses to do with it.

Reviews

[Laz K.]

Art serves many purposes, one of them is to expose one to experiences they never had, opening a door to another person's mind/soul. This one does that - or at least it did it for me. I find the things that are written here contradictory (e.g. is there free will or is it God/Fate that plans our life; is life not worth living, or is it something to get excited about?) and baffling but I appreciate the opportunity of 'looking through the keyhole' into another soul...

[Annabella]

As another soul who wasn't supposed to make it past 14 and then again past 19, and is 24 and counting, I feel you.
This is deep, and powerful.
Do not forget the past, yet do not let it control your future. There is nothing but opportunities ahead of you.
wonderful work!