21 January 2013
Different letters. Different years. Same place. Same tears.
But I do not hurt. I don't get cold. I do not feel. It's getting old.
Special day. Still the same. "Thank you, Glad you came".
Give me nothing. Or give me joy. Supposed to be man. But still a boy.
Eighteen winters. Under the same sky. I try to feel. I really try.
As always. It won't be. A happy birthday. To me.
"Happy" Birthday • Opuss № I