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Trisha Singh Jan 2019
There is no such thing as adulting
There is no such thing as growing up
Biological age cannot be an indicator
A source of income cannot be a dictator
The drama that disguises you as a sufferer
is apt for twitter and synonymous with tumblr
You can look like 50 but still behave like a toddler
Age, intellect , experience and memory don’t matter
Clarity of thought , clarity in action
is what everyone wants, just pay attention
Stages of life are only byproducts of imagination
Felicity Smoak Jan 2019
Remember the years when you thought childhood would never end?
Remember the years when you thought time was so slow?
Remember the years when you thought you were too small to matter?

And now, childhood comes to an abrupt end.
Now, time is as fast as my heartbeat.
Now, I am starting to matter.

Does that mean that this new life is better?
Should I be grateful for my further understanding of the world?

I yearn for the times when I had no responsibility.
I yearn for the times when I had nothing to lose.
I yearn for the times when I was totally and fully myself.
Without being scared.

I am scared to fail.
I am so scared to fail that I am scared to even try.
And I think that is what makes this life not better.

I wish you could freeze time on childhood.
I would spend forever there.

f.m.s.
Adulting is hard. I want to go back so bad.
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
I am so afraid of becoming White Collar Micheal.
He likes to act like his life is so hopelessly blightful, because his name is White Collar Micheal.
On the weekend, he throws on a tie-dye.
Goes from Business Man, to Mr. Nice Guy?
Deep down you know it's a facade, aka,
Your big life's a big lie.  
He does so many uppers you may as well call it the tweekend.
He fills his mind with illusions of grandeur.
I look at him and think "you need to be a man first."
Instead of filling my head with candy and dreams, I face my demons.
And it's utterly delightful because I know I will never become a
White Collar Micheal.
Full disclosure, I didn't write this poem. It was written by my Husband - still working on a pen name.
Rita Sailor Nov 2018
he wants to leave and i help him to pack
because i know where things are
because i want to keep them for myself  

no wonder he’s not sticking around
an abrupt invasion of privacy is bound to end this way
good thing he didn’t burn all the bridges just yet
they welcome him back with open hands

we talk about a friend of a friend who’s friend with other friends but not ours
twice removed thrice forgotten at the party
no bad blood but don’t hold your breath for wedding invitation
i don’t have an appropriate dress and no means to come by 
since we’re started talking in lower voices about grown-up things like mortgage and 401k
we’re in an endless cycle of negotiation
with ourselves and each other
so long, don't think I'll ever throw a party for this tea set for six
Haylin Nov 2018
This time it's not the sadness that's keeping me awake at night
But it's the responsibility I have to face in the morning
winter child Nov 2018
the blur—
seems like it planted deep,
rooting in my bone
scares me to the core
will it ever be sure?
the uncertainty of my future.
i’ve spent nights & days
wide awake thinking
the best ways of dealing
“will i ever stop being so worried?”
about things im not even sure of
while all i can do is sit
—write for the feelings to ease away bit by bit
through every letter the ink spits
Nisrina Ulayya Oct 2018
I’m way older than those ebony
Though sun light seems so lovely
I am tired and so lonely
Old time jokes and pathetic melodies
Accompany me to cemetery
Growing means a differences built
And as each day comes
I’m the only one who can’t quit
Nisrina Ulayya Oct 2018
He goes home everyday at midnight
Drunk but say everything’s alright
Drive below the city lights
No more holding the bolster tight
Does he know that I’m home so frightened?
Everyday everything’s growing
And as the second passes
I’m the one whose always watching
Nisrina Ulayya Oct 2018
Is that my little boy
who used to smile and spread the joy?
But now he throws away all of the toy
And forgot how things used to flow
Nowadays my time is running low
So this is how the goodbye goes
silentwoods Aug 2018
Two years into adulting.
It’s possible, who knew?
I look the same as yesterday
But today I’m twenty two!

Dentist trips still freak me out,
Sometimes I burn an egg.
My blanket covers both my feet,
So monsters won’t grab my leg.

I don’t go out on Friday night,
My ankles feel the weather.
And when I help the kids with homework,
We both learn math together.

Sometimes I’ll burst out crying
For no reason at all.
I know the words to one rap song,
And still prefer guys tall.

My puns are all intended,
There is a spoon I hate,
I’ll never mix my whites and brights,
I can’t stay up too late.

My life has been a wild ride
But I’m thankful for each day.
One day I hope to be mature,
One day... but not today.
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