We came, like young infants stumbling head-long into hedonistic existence Feeling air beneath our feet in the ****-smelling rooms, hiding behind cushions and blankets and exchanging knowing looks on starry nights.
We ran, down green hills on hot, sunny days and burned our hands on shed roofs and the ends of rolled cigarettes.
We drank, berry cider in the dark, dancing drunkenly outside bars, sharing secrets behind closed doors and open whiskey bottles.
We needed, no one but each other and each other's mothers - Some opening their arms to us to swaddle us like newborns, Others dismissing us with a wave of a hand
We spent, the last year of our school lives immersed in each other, some more than others.
We cried, like shell-shocked soldiers behind locked bedroom doors and into smashed-up mobile phones.
We returned, to those dark evenings, to drink ***** on hilltops and smoke endlessly, laughing at everything ******.
We were glowing stars.
We loved, and those immature jokes hit our shields and not our bones.
And now our lives have changed and all those heady evenings spent hiding beer from Bulgarians are behind us all.
We are alone, in this world. Some moreso than others, But we are alive.