Birthday

It isn't the gift anymore,
I forget to ask.
Plenty would be willing,
But every year gets harder to ask.

I've tried asking for time,
Your time, their time,
More time, stop time.
I get another year.

They tell me, "You did it!
"You made it! Way to go!"
What did I make?
What did I do?
Where did I go?

A childhood picture,
"Look how you've grown!"
"Look at how cute!"
Why am I crying?

I want to hold him in my arms,
Never let him go,
He'd ask, "Why are you crying?"
I don't know if I could tell him.

"Your heart will break,
Your trust will fade,
Just run away,
You aren't safe."

He'd hold my face, somehow understand
"Please don't cry"
Then he'd cry too.
Because that's what I would do.

So my birthday hurts,
Because I'm scared.
Afraid to care and be broken,
Afraid to not care and be forgotten.

And so it becomes a day,
I'm afraid to make important.
I've never been good at birthdays.