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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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Maanya is a 14 year old girl living in New York City, but she has ties to London, India, and Hong Kong. She will be attending Bronx High School of Science in the autumn. Growing up has hit her pretty hard, and talking about it with her family and friends always helps. It is important to her that no one is ever alone, because that's the worst feeling there is in her opinion.