“Self-portrait with birthdays”

A poem I wrote one year ago called “Self-portrait with birthdays

Self-portrait with birthdays

As each year goes by,

I wonder

Did I do much with my life?

I graduated from college

Magna cum laude,

written a poetry book,

Raised a child,

have written three unpublished novels,

Been through two abusive relationships

And spent a week and a half in a hospital.

My birthday is August 27

And I wonder,

“Is this all I have to my existence, to say that I’ve

Ached through a lot and achieved a lot?”

Should I have be

A rock star


A reality TV star


A rich bitch?

Should I have been a


Or a somebody else?

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