Been 18 for the last five years
Rain falls on the Blooming City like tears
Are the ones crying just me and the clouds?
Are these fake smiles just chasing crowds?

Have I grown in half a decade?
Have I known loss, or just paraded pain?
Graduated twice, but lost a dad—
Is it even right to still feel sad?

Can you lose someone who you barely knew?
Am I still wandering inside these prose?
The shadows still scream, the ceiling still listens—
What will it take to find what I’m missing?

To my 18-year-old me:
You’re doing okay—just keep trying.
To my 13-year-old me:
It’s okay to rest. That’s still surviving.

I hope I find what I’m meant to do,
Not vanish chasing ruthless truths.
Even if rain hides us in its shrouds,
Light still breaks through cracks in the clouds.
-**