Happy Birthday to a Stranger

You turn seventeen tomorrow
and I'm at a loss for words
because no matter what I say it'll come out wrong
but I can remember promising you a song.
You turn seventeen tomorrow.
I'll be singing "happy birthday" to a stranger over the phone.
You probably won't even pick up,
I don't know you anymore.
And you don't really know me.

You turn seventeen tomorrow.

It's scary how I remember that,
and how I can feel you forgetting about me.
or did you already?
or are you thinking about me?
Am I haunting your thoughts the way your voice still haunts me?

You turn seventeen tomorrow,
exactly nineteen days after me.
Remember how last year we linked pinkies
and laughed about how close we were already?

No more.