I'm grateful for my mind
But most of the time I wish I could think like everyone else
Not having to always feel the need to be more mature
or look at the bright side of things
Everyone tells me I'm "mature for my age"
So I keep exhausting myself
Wishing I could cut the rope to the tug of war competition in my head
The back and forth of wanting to wallow with the moon but knowing that sunshine will wash away the worry
I want to live without being concerned about what my future self will think of me
I want to be a selfish ignorant teen
But I care too much about how I am perceived to others
And I need adult validation to function

your letters, written to coax an empty heart.
an illusion written with dying lead,
begging to fade away.
it is still beautiful, marching in formation
on the loose leaf paper towards the end.
your signature,
which stands to be the only thing left true.
I keep it,
a reminder how lies are beautiful
in your handwriting.

Age 12,
not a single tension of this world,
standing at a standstill,
And shouting ,'**** the whole universe'

age 13,
failed first time,
everything was fine,
except my parent's pride,

age 14,failed again,
for my pride,
my mum made me change my school once again,
I didn't feed on sun,still for everyone I was an alien,
thanks to Harry, Ron and Hermoine,
I learnt friendship from a friendship which I never got,
thanks to J.K Rowling too,
she's the reason why these rhymes make much more sense to me than those value of pi's do,

age 15, failed once again,
but no worries,
cause I know I am going to change the game,
that doesn't mean I don't cry,
don't worry,
when someone asks me,
I never tell them 'why?'

I read Edgar Allan Poe to Dan brown,
did not leave even a single account,
but still the main question remains,
will these words going to take me somewhere,
or even anywhere else,
or I too, will became a 9 to 5 slave just like everyone else.

-my story by adarsh Singh.