6. October

It’s my birthday

But the sun boldly burst into my room and blinded me and I felt rare, profound, disgusting happiness.

My happy birthday.

No sign of grass anywhere.

They got me three different cakes, two chocolate and one raspberry – very kind of them, I smile

They sang to me,

They covered me in buttercream and roses and wishes whilst long, pianist’s fingers, slice me from a distance.

I don’t know what I was hoping for

An email, a letter, a sign, even smoke signals would do.

A leaf on a cobweb on my windowsill on a prison-like old building on a river and that leaf says to me hello: you need me.

I must ignore the leaf even though it’s stuck on a cobweb on my windowsill on a prison-like old building on a river.

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