Birthday
This was a year i didn't see coming- the one that shook me out of complacency. I've forgotten what it was like to feel the sun on my skin without worrying that it could hurt me.
And i reached the point when i no longer know who i am and what my dream is, everyday i was like hearing my dream say good-bye to me.
Birthday is a ceremony, the blowing of candles, wishes from everyone, cutting a cake and the cream of sponge in my mouth.
I don't remember them in sequence, the things that i have asked for. I only remember what i wanted the most, like the doll with pink suite that i saw in the shop when i was five and a bunch of chocolates with nuts that uncle always bring when he back from town.
Or a year when i was seventeen; when i cried a lot because no one remember my birthday and someone tried to make a mess with me but that was my friends' plan. It was a year when i turned to be an adult.
Then there is a year after grandfather passed away and i am far away from home, blowing a candles alone because every year he is the one who always been there with me.
Then there was a year that i fall in love. The one where there weren't any words from him-just me hoping all day that he will remember; I walk at night through the city streets with my heart in pieces within tears drop on my cheeks.
Since it's been same every year, as soon as October comes. I hope we can skip November, i felt nothing like mine anymore; Previously i always love wearing red, cause it makes me shine and confidence. But suddenly i don't like red, i tend to like Black, the dark color. I lost my confidence.
Like the pained silence felt in the lost song of a mermaid; or the bent and broken feet of a dancing ballerina. It is in every considered step i am taking in the opposite direction of my dream. For all these years, i have turned it over in my head, all the possibilities but now none of them make any sense.
Getting older means i care about some things more like street lamps and care about other things less like the clothes i used and i tired all the time.
I hate being older but as when 21st of November comes, i am getting older~
And i reached the point when i no longer know who i am and what my dream is, everyday i was like hearing my dream say good-bye to me.
Birthday is a ceremony, the blowing of candles, wishes from everyone, cutting a cake and the cream of sponge in my mouth.
I don't remember them in sequence, the things that i have asked for. I only remember what i wanted the most, like the doll with pink suite that i saw in the shop when i was five and a bunch of chocolates with nuts that uncle always bring when he back from town.
Or a year when i was seventeen; when i cried a lot because no one remember my birthday and someone tried to make a mess with me but that was my friends' plan. It was a year when i turned to be an adult.
Then there is a year after grandfather passed away and i am far away from home, blowing a candles alone because every year he is the one who always been there with me.
Then there was a year that i fall in love. The one where there weren't any words from him-just me hoping all day that he will remember; I walk at night through the city streets with my heart in pieces within tears drop on my cheeks.
Since it's been same every year, as soon as October comes. I hope we can skip November, i felt nothing like mine anymore; Previously i always love wearing red, cause it makes me shine and confidence. But suddenly i don't like red, i tend to like Black, the dark color. I lost my confidence.
Like the pained silence felt in the lost song of a mermaid; or the bent and broken feet of a dancing ballerina. It is in every considered step i am taking in the opposite direction of my dream. For all these years, i have turned it over in my head, all the possibilities but now none of them make any sense.
Getting older means i care about some things more like street lamps and care about other things less like the clothes i used and i tired all the time.
I hate being older but as when 21st of November comes, i am getting older~
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