Birthday

I hate this bookshelf
you made for me.
All beviled edges and smooth
like the day I met you,
dressed to impress.

You impressed me with
the beautiful designs.
The bookshelf was empty then
and no expectations. Only hopes
to fill the shelves.

I hate this bookshelf
you made for me.
Because
This year you made excuses
and now my bookshelf's walls
are bookends. The old
books fused between
the shelves.

The new lay
abandoned on the floor.