Birthday Gods

Honestly?
My birthday wishes are consumed with this catastrophe,
and I know they're not that important,
wishes never come true,
but have you ever felt so desperate
that superstition captivates you?--

it's my last ditch effort,
is what I'm trying to tell you
and this frivolity of begging
the birthday candle gods
to let this subside
is humiliating in the least.

I've taken to practicing my wishes
when I blow out scented candles on my desk
hoping that maybe there is some hope attached there,
and when we poured gallons of water on the campfire,
I was screaming in my head with my eyes pinched shut,
"I WISH THIS WOULD TURN OUT WELL
I WISH THIS WOULD TURN OUT WELL."

We always say, "I don't give a fuck anymore,"
which means we give massive loads of fucks
but are too blinded by the pain of what's on our mind
to even stand face to face and say it,
just say it.
just.
say.
it.
I wish,
you'd just say it--
I'm sure someone just blew a candle out somewhere
so it's okay to make that wish,

Don't fault me, birthday candle gods,
I've been practicing for my big day
hoping I get two cakes,
I have to two big requests

and I'm twenty-two this year,
shouldn't I be wishing for a convertible?
or a shit ton of money for student loans?

when the cakes are placed in front of me,
I'll have already pulled my hair back
in preparation as to not dick this up,
"Come on Beth, make a wish..."

I've been frenzied, blowing out candles
matches, flames on gas stove burners,
wishing and wishing and wishing
and this is what you've reverted me to,
singeing my arm hair off, no eye brows
getting as close to any flame to make it legit
begging, "PLEASE, LET THIS BE BOLD."