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On Growing Up

every night is midnight
scribbling formulas and
typing furiously

 

every morning is too much
bleary eyes and
half eaten breakfast

 

sometimes I wish I’d grow down
back to the days where
chubby cheeked children
run, screeching, smiling,
not a care in the
world

 

they ate applesauce
didn’t care if
there was marker on their hands
or glue
in their hair
taking their glee for
granted

 

there was a middle stage when
growing up seemed to be the best
it was all we ever wanted
responsible
smart
independent

 

now
those words are boulders
we carry on our shoulders

 

we used to be explorers
enchanted by the world
entranced by all there was

 

but now
we’ve fallen out of love with it

 

do I want to go back?
learn the alphabet again?
sing songs about shapes
recite rhymes about numbers

 

would I give it up
the stress
the anxiety
the depression
just for a taste of what I used to be?


I guess that’s the easy escape
dwell in the past and drown
out the now
It doesn’t work though
I wish it did
Sometimes
Sometimes all I want is the
Pain
gone

 

The trick
though

 

Is to notice the moments
When you’re happy
Not when you’re perfect
When you’re imperfect
But you love
You’re loved
Being perfect is overrated
Trust
Me
I
Know.
Just be yourself
Be radiant
Incandescent
Ablaze
Coruscant
Don’t be any star


Be the SUN






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