Aging

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It all ages, whether it's human, plant, animal, or materialistic.
Slowly but steadily, the inevitable end is approaching.

I'm only sixteen years old and I'm still wondering what will happen to me...
What's wrong with me?,
I'm constantly plagued by the unsettling feeling that something terrible is about to happen.

Unhappy am I, at sixteen,
perhaps later in life I'll learn to be happy,
to experience love in all its forms,
to smile without regard for the future, past, or present,
to live in the moment, free at last.

Maybe my end is far away or right around the corner.
What do I know?

Oh, what I know is that I don't want it to end,
but I'm also praying to stop living,
not in the sense that I want to die,
but in the sense that I want to stop feeling pain,
this urge that makes me rude, angry, and annoyed,
that makes me want to curse every man and woman on the planet.

But to be hypocritical and blame society for all of my problems would be wrong,
but someone must take the blame,
someone must accept responsibility for my suffering and pain,
tell me it's not true,
tell me I'm not the only one who led me down this path,
tell me someone pushed me, and it's not all my fault.

But whether they come forward and accept responsibility or not,
it won't make a difference because the version of me that lives in my head constantly reminds me that I chose this path,
that I'm a jerk,
that I'm a mistake,
that I'm sick....

Oh, yes, this is what she says, well, to be honest,
this is only half of it, she'd go on for hours about how I'm worthless,
taking up space, a burden to everyone; even myself.
Tell me is it possible to be a burden to yourself?,
actually don't answer, because if the answer is yes, she'd be right again.

But I'm getting older, growing up, so tell me,
will she eventually go away?
Maybe when I'm twenty, she'll leave,
because I believe a life without her is peaceful and carefree.

But for as long as she stays, my body will grow,
but my mind will be trapped by this sixteen-year-old voice
that despises ME...

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