Today I turn twenty-seven.
It feels like any other day.
No messages lighting up my phone,
no knock at the door,
no one calling my name.
I sit at home
with silence stretched across the walls,
holding myself together
because I hate the way I cry.
Twenty-seven today—
and it feels like no one knows.
No cake.
No candlelight.
No wish waiting in the dark.
Just me,
myself,
and I.
-
Author:
Jodie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 19th, 2026 15:03
- Category: Sad
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
This poem feels so lonely and solitary and I remember the 27 club. Well written and a bit haunting
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.