NICHOLAS KNIGHT

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Birthdays Alone

People are an ingredient to celebration

not person

Happiness is a prerequisite

not holes filled of absence

candles the topping

not counting seconds

hip hip hooray replaced by the birds

the waves, the sand

sad 

three common letters the order 

devastating

disguising detest as dance

no seats taken

but the one you’ve carved

like a knife

in your heart

loneliness sharp enough

only your hand to stop the bleeding

apply pressure

from other’s departure

blowing out flames 

the only sound

distinguishing any hope