Death Day

My birthday is on the horizon,
and my fear exceeds the joy
of death to come upon me.
Every year I grow older, and
closer to the death day
of Molly Kay.
My heart cries for my mortality,
and the horrible knowledge
that I will someday perish.
My family calls this sudden sadness each year
my "holiday blues."
That is what they are.
I will die someday, and "someday"
draws ever nearer.
This realization haunts me every birthday,
and I wonder at immortality.
I wish for it and hope.
I write and my art speaks through lead and brush,
desperate attempts to immortalize
myself.