Sometimes I wonder
why my life seems to crumble,
burst at the seams,
fall apart at my touch.
I wonder
why do I feel so alone,
so hurt,
so disappointed with everything.
Maybe that specifically
just has to do
with my expectations
of the world.
But I wonder
why I can’t seem
to do anything right,
like I’m just a roadblock
in everyone’s path.
I feel like
I can’t live up to the
expectations
everyone is throwing at me.
But then I also wonder,
what other problems
do people have?
Are they worse than mine?
And I want to believe
they are.
Yes, darling.
Somebody out there has it
worse than you.
Your problems are so small
compared to the bigger picture.
Dear, please don’t worry so much.
Go out and be happy.
But are they?
And what kind of problems
are they?
Is this just growing up?
Having confusion stalk you
around everywhere you go,
always waiting, watching
for you to screw up.
Having stress pile itself
on your back,
stack after stack,
building a tower destined to fall.
Having late nights
catch up to you
and tackle you
right in the middle of the day.
Having half of a meal
you used to eat.
And being full
by the end of those few bites.
Losing appetite,
losing determination,
losing motivation and drive,
losing your mind.
Quietly shutting the door,
sitting on your bed
and just break down.
Tears falling,
shoulders shaking,
mind racing.
Is this what growing up is?
Just a collection of confusion,
stress and anxiety?
What happened to being a child?
So many questions,
so little answers.
This, my friend,
is what you call the
complete and utter conundrum
of growing up.
