Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2013
Do you wonder where all that time went? All those special moments or just the ordinary daily activities that are now only memories. Memories that are unique and the only way you can hold onto them is by replaying them in your mind over and over again, until the details all merge together and you're left with a fuzzy recollection that doesn't seem to fit anymore.

Do you remember the exact time when you started to grow up? When the conversations you had were not about dolls or imaginary friends
Have you ever felt that the closest people to you are also the furthest away? Felt that everything was happening too fast? And even though you didn't want to grow up, you didn't want to be left behind either?

And when his hand is no longer a boy's but a man's, when his touch does not convey safety but lust and when your body betrays you and wants it too, is this when we have grown up? Or is it when we are forced to grow up?

And who tells us when we have grown up? How do we know when we have reached our destination? Do we ever stop growing up or do we continue to just grow in spirit?

And if I can see everyone else making choices, trying new things, growing up, is it selfish for me to want it to stay the same forever?

And if I make my own choices, try different things, slowly growing up, will others notice that I'm changing too? Do they wish that nothing would change just like I do?

And if I'm just scared of losing the people that are close to me, scared of being left behind or leaving others behind, is it okay for me to stand off in the distance just watching these people live their lives, remembering how they are and how they make me feel?

But if I hold onto them too tightly how am I to move on? How am I to grow up and LIVE MY LIFE? How am I to make decisions and take on responsibility if I'm living in the past?

I guess time continues whether you want it to or not, leaving you behind or taking you for the journey of your life.
Adeline Dean
Written by
Adeline Dean  Paris
(Paris)   
627
   Megan Hoagland
Please log in to view and add comments on poems