birthday number 17

time ticks by in it's monotonous tone, every second another part of me is lost, layers fall away like paper, new traits are formed in an endless cycle, every year is past and i form a new me, someone others can fit to. who am i really? am i myself or a reflection, only time will tell, but time lies, time takes, time steals. people closest to me become distant, past loved ones fade to nothingness, this empty hole only grows, my heart used to be so full, every year it feels lighter and heavier. growing up is strange, you don't grow in one direction, everything always changes, i suppose i am to celebrate that. happy birthday to me.