Another Birthday Without You

As the sun sinks below

the skyline

and day gives way to night,

I light a candle

to honor you.

Today, 

you would have been 

another year older

if you had lived past

sixty-two,

but Cancer had other ideas. 

I did too. 

I had career changes

and wedding plans, 

the pursuit of happiness

and second chances - 

everything in a life

you can imagine

that needed you

and your opinions.

Now

I just have this candle

and it will burn to the ground

or until the wick burns out. 

No wishes will be made tonight. 

No cake will be served. 

No party hats will be adorned. 

No gifts will be exchanged. 

It's just me and a candle

and an unused wish

sitting on the balcony

as the scars of your loss

bust my heart and the dark

wide open for no one to see.