i always had a feeling
that i would die young
i brushed it off as paranoia
just my mind being dumb

but here i lie
3am in a cold bed
my body lacking warmth
my head not in the right place

i feel it, a lump
something that shouldn't be there
its painless, and silent
but still an invader in my chest

"go get it checked out"
you said, with an indifferent gaze
then changing the subject
death a topic far from your daze

would you be sad?
or was i always a waste of space
one more mouth to feed
a body to accommodate

would anyone care?
would anything be said?
"she just got a scholarship!
oh what a waste"

i can't help but think
that my bed has been made
and what awaits me,
isn't a friendly fate

for all i've done
on this temporary earth
was sin my soul away
since the day of my birth

i am afraid of what's to come.