24, 25, 26.

Is your time still rolling forward? 

In that over under world

Or is time now going backwards? 

Are you a year younger now? 

Now that you’ve went and gone away,

The way of Peter Pan or Benjamin button

And all of us one day.

Do your birthdays, six feet under bring you closer to the start? 

Or do your death days just remind us that you’re slowly falling apart.

I cant say now if you’re 26, or 25, or 24? 

It pains me to think how I don't know if I care anymore.

Not that I do not miss you,

And weep for you in my bed

Not that those hard set thoughts

Don’t live inside my head

It just no longer truly matters if you’re 24 or 25

The numbers feel inconsequential when you’re no longer alive.