I'm sixteen going on sixty
I can barely see the point in life
I will live a short life,
Accomplish nothing spectacular
And then die
Forgotten like the rest

I was alive for a moment
Truly felt the wind brush my skin
Felt it thread it's fingers in my hair
Felt it caress my heart from within

It was a moment
Fleeting in it's wispy form
It was a moment that I felt
reborn

It was then I could raise my head
But alas, the moment past
and again I was dead

I woke up feeling wrong,
Looked in the mirror and felt unsettled in my skin
Who am I? Where did I come from?
Why do I question things? Where did answers begin?
Why do I speak?
Why is this voice a part of me
Is my soul a real thing?
Are they real, the things I see?
Where do I go when I die?
Is it blackness, a dark and endless sky?
Will I know I'm me when I no longer breathe?
Will I think about these unimportant things?
Will I remember my loves, my hardships. my joys?
Will I remember the things that fixed me and the things that destroyed?
How about my memories? Will they matter at all?
Do these events add up to my impending rise to fall?
Will I remember why I woke up feeling so wrong?
Or will the death of me silence my song?

The rain beats against the blemished glass of my window
Leaves lay brown and crumpled on the ground
A frozen memory of a yesterday's sorrow
Tell me, what is that terrifying sound?

The one that repeats inside of this tormented head
The one that pounds and screams to be let out
The one that tucks me in inside my bed
It fills my soul, my heart. my bones, my doubt.

I feel it aching like age in these worn out muscles
I feel it weighing my shoulders down
I feel it like flames of some vengeance seeking fire
I feel it as I watch Autumn make it's rounds

This seasonal pain is breaking my heart
I'm like Fall as I fall apart