A funeral at 8 years old, with no attachment felt
I dissociate, realizing mortality for a moment
and fall into the monotony of routine and life
a protection of fragile ego and, possibly, sanity
A thought, inescapable, I will die. One day I will
no longer be here. So what of existence, and what that of reality?
I live in a denial of truth, lingering in my youth
far beyond what I have ever expected
I am really going to grow old and wither
My molecular structure will be the destruction
If I can't figure it manage to find a way to save myself
because when I die I'll find out absolutely nothing
*What will happen to my consciousness, all that is really me?