I Guess This Is Growing Up

Find me in the middle
of the maybes,
the daydreams,
the flights of fancy.

I’m the boy with
the lights in his eyes,
the sighs,
the sullen goodbyes.

I hate letting go
of everyone I know.

Kiss me to send me off,
one more time,
I’m in rhymes
that were never mine.

I’m the boy with
the light fading,
I’m aching,
all of this is breaking.

I hate letting go
of everyone I know.