The Seventeenth Scar

A poem about being screwed over on a day that meant alot to you.

Here's the final call
I aged one year today
Happy f---ing birthday
Is this supposed to mean anything?
The knife in my back is the best present
I can add it to my collection
I lay here defeated, broken
Music blares in the background
Vocals and screeching guitars
I can't really hear the lyrics
My heart pounds loudly in my head
The sun is too bright
So I draw the blinds
And see my world for what it is:
Dark, blurred nothingness
Alone all along
You're wonderfully you and I simply exist
I'm already damaged and you're just warming up