Soon enough, I'll be older. Soon enough, I'll be at the age.
The age where they'll ask me who and what I am going to be,
who will I be with, where will I be, in which air will my ashes finally fly away.
Soon I'll weep at midnight hoping it never happens.
Soon I'll be at the wrong side of maturity.
You'll ask me if I'll still pack my bags for a week of debauchery
and bike trips to the mountains, if I'll still get that tattoo I told you about,
a long time ago, if I'll still dread love, if I'll still escape myself.
I don't know, I never know, I never knew.
My bags and thoughts are always packed to run.
I am always a second away from leaving it all behind.
Leaving myself behind.
Do not expect me to be wiser. Don't even try.
Do not expect me to be docile. I'll thunder.
Break everything around me. Break my back.
Soon, I'll be older soon. Soon, I'll be wilder soon.
Who could ever stop me.
- Sarthak Kulshreshtha