I turned 17 and I wished to die

Writer's letter: My birthday just passed and it is unfortunate I felt nothing close to happy. As I blew the candles everything sort of came back in flashbacks, my grandparents, the baby food, the squeaky toys in the backyard, death. All that is good has passed me and now as I grow up my loved ones will go down under and I wish to go first to not witness any of it. 

As the days turn to the hues of yellow

I realized, I too, am no longer green

The coughs come my old people

Imbed itself into our mundane affairs

The cracked bones break on the backs

Of the folks that don’t mind fixing it

The notion of death does not come as a monster

Rather a soft lullaby that cannot be shut out

Everything around me is changing

So I can’t help but imagine the same for me

Have I reached my heyday?

Will the days turn clear once again?

Will those chances return

Can I fix my dumb mistakes

Can I dance with my own conviction once more

Straightened my back with my own strength

This glamorous dream is blinding me deep

Which I must confess I am not of