It's prominent that something is missing, so I'm going to stay sixteen; because my anxious self is becoming more uneasy by the day. Tell me why i don't want to accept or even understand. Tell me why I don't want to. And I can see that these last few strings, that are still trying to hold me down, are laced with memories, like the last few thirsty desires that I'm still trying to have. And the only sad part is I'm walking with a smile. I don't think I know that something is missing.