Thanatophobia

I am tentatively scheduled to die.
One day, for some reason
or for no reason at all,
my lungs will stop breathing,
my heart will stop beating,
and I won't be anymore

Everyone dies.
Everyone knows everyone dies.
Some believe there's something after this.
Some know their options after this.
But I don't.
At least, not anymore.

You see that poor, inert bird on the sidewalk that will never fly again
I crouch down on my knees and cry.

Where do we go, little bird?
Where do we go?