One more year and I will be closer to wherever I’m going.
I’m all alone,fuming at myself,waving a great flagof failure.
Stella scribbledin thick black textaacross half the pagesof my best storybook,filled with people who venturedwhere their hearts took them.Beautiful worlds beyond mine.
The true test is wonwhen being togetherwithout saying a wordis everything.
It’s nice to think that picking uncertain paths may not necessarily alter their destination too drastically, simply the journey undertaken to reach it.
There’re three reasonspeople get away from here:gone good, gone bad orgone dead.
I’m justthe reason they married.Mum saysI was a surprise.Dad saysI was an accident.Truth is …I am their mistake.
Then she smiles, like it’sthe first time she’s seen sunafter a decade of winters.
Growing up changes morethan playground gamesand body shapes.
I want out of this place.With no reminders.”It stings -sulphur tearsin cinnamon rain.
Instead,she’s as stillas a leaf-littered pond,dark water evaporating,waiting desperately for rain.
i miss my brother likethe sea would miss saltif that were taken away.
It’s not about blood,”says Lucius. “It’s about who you shareyour life with.Where you feelyou really belong.
Things should have beenso differentto the way they arenow.
I walk the city, through its crush of people and its smells:body odour, rotting food, vomit and urine. A cocktail of oppression and freedom.