Maturing is realizing that you’re no longer afraid of the dark,
But still longing to lie in bed beside your mom.

Maturing is realizing that your parents will one day be gone,
And it could be tomorrow, or in ten years,
And every word they speak could be their last.
Maturing is realizing that you, too, will one day be gone,
And you’ll never know when.

Maturing is staring out of the window for seven minutes at 3 a.m.
It is the feeling in your chest telling you to rest.
It’s crying once in a while.
It’s being scared,
But still wanting to be brave.

Maturing is living in uncertainty for the rest of your life.
Maturing is realizing that, even if you don’t know how, when, or why,
You’ll try to do your best.
And sometimes, that’s all you can do.

Growing up means becoming an adult,
atleast this is what they say
but if being an adult means being like them,
I’m not sure I want it.

My heart aches at the thought,
my eyes brim with tears
my inner child begs me to not

and

sometimes
the only thing you need to do in a life
is to heal your inner child

Today I waved at someone,
but he didn’t wave back.
How tragic—
I thought he was the one.