Twenty-Four Candles

Melting Wax and Years that Pass

Make a wish, blow a breath 

The wax is bleeding over the buttercream 

Can you hear the flames' small screams?

Melting and mixing with piped icing 

From a match to a candle wick 

Trigger lighters and sparks after 

The flames are burning someone’s flesh 

Blistering in sharp drips and reddening skin

Anger shot and bruised days after 

Prep, take a step and smile  

Breath well deep in and blow a gail   

Set the blazing candle men to their death 

To meet a quick insightful, less painful end 

For their sacrifice will grant a high-up wish 

Moulded and stripped from shooting star promises  

Only granted if kept safe in one’s own head 

Till we count them blazing men again and again  

Wait for the coming of another candle to join the list 

As with every year that we manage to live 

Is us, slowly staggering closer to death

Fizzling out like the merry broken candle sticks

Stripped and striped, simmering less bright

With the melting buttercream and piped ice 

Make a wish, blow a breath 

i

The baby sits happily blowing bubbles and smiling with eyes constantly wandering and absorbing. The room is full of people of different heights and tones that murmur and talk, and that room after will never be as full for the years that will come. The walls are smeared in buttercup yellow and the room is neat though three big dogs wander around legs, licking hands that might pass snacks and finding free spaces that would let them curl peacefully within the crowd that has gathered. There are children of young ages running and joking, those who are blood and non blood related, all eagerly waiting for a slice of cake and to peer at the toys the young babe will get during the aided unwrapping. 

The birthday girl in question continues on a giggly flow not letting any frowns or tired eyes change her thoughts, let alone the heavy cast on her leg that weighs her down. That’s what happens when one tries to dance before they know the meaning of walking, but this girl definitely will grow to not accept that lesson easily.  

She sits on her mother’s lap and smiles at her dad with his camcorder as they all sing her birthday wishes in different languages. A burning candle’s flame licks the air with its small but warm form over a yellow custard cake, that is a shade lighter than the walls. She sits confused when they finish her song, so her mother leans forward and blows out the candle as they begin to applaud. 

ii

green marzipan, yellow sponge, white flowers, chequered dress, bubbling words, less crowded, candle flame, two instead, scratch that, candle flames, still just one wish.  

iii

Flight overseas / greying skies / dark scarfs / hidden faces / smiles at the door / grandpa’s face brightens / his hands pulling jewels from pomegranates / shared food on the kitchen table / running behind curtains / hide and seek in emptied out cupboards / playing with green marbles that match both our eyes / walking slowly with his slow steps / feeding stray cats milk with deep bowls / hanging by the balcony where the ivy tangles and grows / stickers from Rugrats in Paris go missing / so does their green robot dinosaurs / only Chuckie is left with his red curling astray hair / my hair is cut and my curls die with it / gone missing like those stickers / suitcases are in mid packing for when the trip comes back to home / we share birthday candles on the cake / surrounded by a family close and apart in a land I still have never turned to return to / I would never know his smile again / but the images still play in my head / I wish I can lay flowers where he rests. 

iiii

Dippy stands tall and whole in an echoing hall, cast from different parts to make one version of their spices. The little girl in the red jacket and navy puffer coat doesn’t take much notice of the fact the bones aren’t real, as much as the feeling that she is in the presence of fallen monsters. Her shelves at home are decorated with dinosaur books, videos and figurines, she wonders if she can dig up wonders lost in dirt and stone. 

Her mum and dad guide her through the exhibitions and move her on when she is stuck staring. Moving her through the jerky animatronics and feathered raptors, left wide-eyed from the T-Rex dripping with bloody red teeth and thrown flesh. It is safe to say that even with her admiration, nightmares of sharp teeth would always linger. Maybe some monsters are left lost to the passing years, even with all their wonder. 

iiiii

Five years brought five things with it, five candles on a cake with a dragon flying across a deep gloomy castle, with a rim of multicoloured lollipops to snuff out its darkness. I get sick of their sweetness and instead of hoarding them like gold, I share them with those who would better admire them. 

The room is plastered with banners and balloons in big round five letterings. They are tall and hit the ceiling multiple times with a bounce. It is the only time I get to keep balloons at home because our oldest dog hates their relentless squeaky sounds. He barks a few times but leaves them for me to keep for just this day, though tomorrow they will quickly be deflated for his sake. 

I get my first bike that was not so well hidden in the corner, its bars a deep maroon accompanied with a set of training wheels too. Me and mum try biking in the path in the front yard, she says it is important I know how to ride a bike like she used to in the streets back home. But the streets in London aren’t like the ones my parents used to know.

We hold a pizza party with all the extra olives and invite the girls from my class, by the end of the night I decide I can’t deal with the screams and chatter of the kids in the car, I tell mum this is the last party I want to bring home, better yet only bring the pizza back with us. 

Cake cut, balloons deflated, bike set aside and extra olive pizza well eaten, we play music on the stereo and there is peace from once there was chaos. 

iiiiii

Arcade racing cars / bowling at 10 pins / knocking down only six / the bowling balls are heavy for small hands / it is a bit too loud / the shoes a bit too big / she is not sure if she is meant to bowl with the right or with the left / a bit downcast when she doesn’t hit anything at all / but it’s okay- everyone is happily smiling / McDonald’s fries and birthday cake are delivered / extra ketchup and extra candles / she gets a music box with a fairy / the tune seems to become engraved into her head / she doesn’t remember what she is meant to be wishing when they light the candles / does she ever make a wish? / can she just keep on playing the melody again and again? 

iiiiiii

She doesn’t remember much, apart from unboxing presents, playing with Nintendo dogs and running around the park, playing dress up with not-so-digital dogs and happily eating cake. She could have been at Snakes and Ladders or watching a film in the cinema, that year’s birthday was a bit of a blur. Presumably, her wish was made with seven candles, what she wishes for I can not say.

iiiiiiii

Martina talks for everyone at the table, though it is commonly known that I am the one who doesn’t know when to shut up. But I am glad for her words since she releases strings of sentences when I feel I don’t have the air to speak them. She is few years younger- our toothy neighbour and a thorn in my side, probably the closest thing I will ever have to a human sister. 

We argue for most of the day and she never seems to leave when it gets too dark, she talks about sleepovers and midnight sneakiness and about all the things she wants to see and absorb in our world. It is quite exhausting. We even argue on my birthday, bickering as we- not gelable people, gel perfectly well together, sparkling and sprinkling like a match until we reset the flame and continue to bicker about lighting the candles and whether she gets to blow an extra wish after I make mine. 

We share halloumi, chips and salad in a Mediterranean restaurant, surrounded by glass lamps and colourful walls and return home to stick even more colourful foil on felty sticker packs that are a mural on the cupboards, the drawers and luckily not sticking on the dogs. I give that set to her when they move, after arguing on her birthday and arguing week to every day. I still have her photo and a scribble of misspelt words thanking me, for what, I don’t remember. They are quite out of shape that I am still not sure what she was writing in her talkative manner or what she wished on that day.  

iiiiiiiii

She spends most of her evenings practising music on a toy keyboard, when she comes home this time around she finds 61 gleaming keys. The keyboard with all its functions and buttons becomes part of the room for the coming years, hurled along for music practice and grade exams, even when the keys are not sitting right and their noise becomes jarring. She will aim for their cheerful notes and broken chords, taking them to bits and rearranging them, accompanied by howling when she plays them aloud and all the anger and sadness when she wants to shred the sheet music apart. But at that moment there’s no focus on breaking, ageing, or not-so-well playing, just the feeling of the possibility of keys that she will spend years playing.

She quickly records a theme of happy birthday and runs back to the cake with its candles, her parents sing and she smiles as the music and the words all go together in time. She blows out a wish as it ends, for what? I am not sure, it is lost to the music that the keys might only know.

iiiiiiiiii

Christened in Italy in a church with a painting of a knight slaying a dragon, I hate that the artist painted the blood dripping from him. I hold Grandpa’s cross tight and Mum pins my hair back with a fabric rose. I spent the day nervously clutching to Mum and Dad when I can and thinking about how I am doing this for Grandpa who can’t be here. 

Pizza in Italy was dinner and gelato ice cream for dessert and spending time seeing if I can follow the lizards that skitter across the hot pavements here. The day is usually full of the noise of dubbed and re-dubbed telenovelas that sound odd on our tongue, but Grandma loves them and I am not allowed to change the channel at all. So sadly the passing of time is stuck with my cousin who is four years older. 

We argue every day but not a good type of arguing. Not even bickering siblings argue, we fight over how I can not play on the play station or the computer, create evolutions in Spore or skate in Kingdom Hearts. He hogs my Nintendo DS and I wonder when will it all be over so I can return home to my dogs. We plan to go see the sinking city and instead do a 180 to the theme park for he will not stop his crying. I can't even play music on his keyboard or have a meal cooked just for me without him throwing a fit. 

Note to self don't grow up to be such a dick.

Is it bad to use a wish, to possibly wish someone away as it seems more tangible than to wish for someone to show care and kindness?

i - i

It is a rainy day at London Zoo and all the animals stay in their sheltered spaces, leaving the guests uninterested and feeling that the day is wasted. The rain however doesn’t stop the birthday girl from running to the glass and the rails, stepping and reaching on her tiptoes to see past the bars. As she is full of a complete sense of wonder for the animals that aren’t human, she is allowed to borrow her dads’ camera and take pictures of the world around her for her eyes can not make out the details of the faces, claws and tails that are hidden in the shadowy sheltered spots of the gloomy weather. 

In particular she stays in what looks like an astronaut helmet to chill with the Meerkats and has to be asked with great patience if she is ready to go to see the next kingdom. She spends the rest of the day jumping and excitedly wanting to learn everything but also questioning the walls, the rails, the bars in the journey. Mum asks her how things are and the girl says “I think I want to live where the wild grows” for the wild seemed a lot more like home than what was built to save them.  

She sleeps for the first time in the car that evening when they drive home, I think she was off dreaming and wishing about running with the wolves, swimming in the sea and learning to climb tall trees. 

i - ii

M&S Rose sponge raspberry cake / no taste of roses / first time horse riding / the horses name is Gizmo / I don't break a bone / or have a fall / though it isn't like riding a bike at all / no training wheels to remove / this bike has a mind to jump the fence / or chuck me off and leave me for dead / cowboys make it look too easy / with the prices bikes might be a better investment / I’d rather turn to talking to horses then trying to ride them / maybe wishing to talk to animals would be a good one / not sure they would want to talk to us though.

i - iii

Sick teen / sleepy eyed / veggie burger dinner / car ride home / tucked under covers / watching trashy tv shows / candles on cake / wish the ache’s away / head against pillow / turn my phone down / warm dog snuggles against feet / decide to ignore the messages I got / is it mean? / I don’t have the energy to question what is what / just played my favourite song and let it wash the light to dark.

i - iiii

The girl leaves giddy from the cinema after being so worried that the movie would suck and her birthday would head down with it. Though that is easily done when the two boys she invited to join her tell her how wrong and odd they think she is, how odd their mother thinks she is, for playing football, for avoiding girly things, for inviting boys out on her birthday rather than the girls from class. She tries to avoid the jabs and takes the shotgun in the arcade and hits the mark on each duck and prays for she would never want to shoot actual ducks. The ticket machine winds up and spits out rolls of tickets. They play for a few hours and she keeps thinking how nobody asked those questions when she was younger or maybe now they have finally started hurting her. 

i - iiiii

The girls gift me funny cards, including ones with lots of dogs. We debate what type of half and half pizza to get at the hut and what ice cream to eat after the marvel movies end credits roll and the day is up. We walk around the arcade and make jokes about coming of age. I say ageing isn’t that great, especially when people want you to fit in all these different boxes and chuck you when you don't. They say growing up is great, they can’t wait to move out, to leave the house, to go to uni, to start their own life away. Maybe I am odder than I thought or my box is different from everyone else’s.

I return home for cake and pick another film for family movie nights.

Can I wish to not grow up and stay like this forever on?   

i - iiiiii

That year she has no candles, just a lighter that takes too many tries to light as it sparks out each time. Her fingers though they have been playing melodies for years don’t have the strength to spark a flame and hold it in place. Instead she burns her fingers and runs them under cold water. 

She spends the afternoon at a restaurant with her mum, her aunt and her grandmother. Her dad is away making sure his mum is okay, but all she can think about is how he is not here, on her 16th and how empty those digits feel. She tries to put it aside and focus on making it through dinner and not letting bitter remarks hurt her and to keep a smile plastered, if not for herself at least for her mother.

Grandma talks about not eating anything but eats everything, she piles her fork into the girls plate and steals lump sums from the risotto. The now sixteen year old knows the meaning of sharing and caring but she didn’t even get a proper bite in before her plate was half finished for her. Grandma takes offence and says she isn’t diseased for the girl to abandon her food. This time when the chocolate ozzzzing fondant is served with vanilla ice cream, the girl moves her plate far from grandma's reach. It would be the first time she would try one and she wasn’t having a bite stolen without her even offering. People are good at taking when not even asked. 

i - iiiiiii

College days means working hard on catching up on all the software I didn’t know before. Tired working eyes, dried from being glued to screens, drawing, writing and editing things. Mum and dad pull me aside and say it’s your birthday no more working endlessly tonight. Sit down, eat dinner, cut the cake, make a wish, get some rest, you will work tirelessly another day. 

We sit down, eat dinner, cut the cake, blow out the candles, get some rest, I wake up and keep working the following day. 

i - iiiiiiii

Grassy hills / deers sprinting and munching / walks with dogs / muddy lakes / white swans that bite / this is closest thing to a Londoners countryside / we drive / the window wide open / so the breeze can fill the car / can you wish to get lost in the air like this / in the warmth of springs midday sun?

i - iiiiiiiii

Banana, walnut and cream custard cake loaded with raspberries, is cut a day or two early. It became a tradition to blow out candles with lighters for we somehow keep misplacing the candles and never remember to buy them when they are needed. The birthday itself was spent mostly in and out of classes, presentations and mopping over how long the days are and waiting for the hours to pass down the last few minutes, the sprint back and lock the world out.  

ii - /

The ageing girl holds a smile on her face though her hands are crumbling napkins as she sits in Bella Italia, expression falling, watching her partner ask her to split the bill. She spent the week planning out her birthday, where to go, what to see, she picked a ballet at the Royal Opera House and made sure to get the tickets on sale, she got a coupon on the meal so that her partner wouldn’t have to spend too much, though he insisted it would be alright, he will pay the lump sum. So she eats the mushroom risotto and this time shares the chocolate fondant with its vanilla ice cream as he complains about not wanting to buy two though he could eat three. 

Turns out as the bill is given, the coupon won’t work for that branch, it doesn’t take him a second to spit out let's split the bill now “Excuse me?” She says with a glare, it is not that she has not paid the many bills before but that her birthday lunch gift is completely forgotten about. He stares back deadpan like she is crazy for such a reaction “I thought you said… it’s my birthday?” He returns the glare and suddenly a light goes on and he apologises and stutters, asking her to forget what just happened. 

She pushes the exchange away and focuses on the joy of the day. But everything about him is starting to bite at her. 

ii - i

Locked in, world spiralling, me happy and smiling, twenty one spent thinking the world might end but I am my gladdest curled on the couch watching movie marathons and making dinner with mum. I put worry away and push back any sadness I feel being stuck inside the walls and cast bright looks at the flowers that are booming for the spring. How can I be unhappy when nature seems to be returning to its glory. We have three candles, enough for years 2 and 1 and bake a banana cake with fresh cream. We spend the evening playing UNO cards and arguing over who is cheating and who should have won. I sleep soundly. Wishing this happiness will always stay catching. 

ii - ii

I don’t remember shit, just sadness, irritation, emptiness and wondering when did I or should I fall to bits. I laughed, I smiled, but what was it for, I don’t even recall it just became one blur. I sleep next to my old pup and hear his breathing going on and off, wondering how much sand there is before time tickles down to none. I don’t try wishing for him to live as much as I wish he’d go easily in his sleep, I whisper to him to let go- but I know he is far from wanting to leave. I don’t blame him as I struggle to turn away, desperately, wanting to keep holding onto his paws.

ii - iii

Third year in a lockdown and dad brings back orange roses for the table, orange as the shade of sunsets this season, they sit beautifully in the room and no matter how I take the photo it doesn’t catch their shade clearly. The cake this time around returns in the same flavour and style and we laugh how the piped chocolate letters are misspelt. That day it snows, ever so briefly and I can’t help but reach my hand out of the window to catch a touch of their cold before the snowflakes dissolve to water drops. Their presence wasn’t meant to last at all. We order take out and I try and not think of loss as there’s one less dog at home this year round. Candle wishes won’t be able to bring back what I want most, and my eyes wonder whether the wax burns the cake like my tears do to my face. 

ii - iiii

2 to the 4 is started with late morning waking to dreary skies, walking with what little glimmer of sun shines beyond those set mood clouds and sit heavily with the birthday girl. She spends this day, with its usual laugh and cheer quite tired and numb, she holds a smile when cutting the cake in the same place the last few years, this is the first time her smile seems fake. She blows out the candles but doesn’t utter much of a wish as a promise to feel better and do better. Her thoughts are too much, crowded on those not here, and what happens when numbers dwindle down to one, she can’t explain why that ache appears, just that it exists here. 

In all the birthday years that pass, from happy ones to the forgetful ones, she wonders if she can collect all their wishes and swap them for a better one. Lay all the candles of the past and respark the joy birthdays had for it feels like she is only starting to realise their burning, waxing ways and that their memories dwindle just like the candle flames. 

© 2023 Cunning Moss Words - 
Written by Anayis N. Der Hakopian