The way that you hold my hand,
So willingly, so happily
The way that you sprinkle kisses
Making fun of yourself
And others before you

You told me you loved me
But a little more talking and you were unsure
I'll never tell you how you're supposed to feel
It's not my place
But I've told you this before many times

*please don't get my hopes up

I traced my finger
On the outline of his face.
Every pixel carrying the love
That we have for each other.

Smiles were real with him-
Worth capturing through lenses.
My eyes distracted by his beauty.
I was not looking at the camera-
Why should I?
Perfection was right beside me.

Every line of coloured
Running through the picture,
Encapsulating the fantasies that was wrapped around us.
No sign of reality
Since we were simply
Infatuated with each other.

The light displayed
Across the photograph
Showed sparks that lip up
When we were close together.
The fire that ignited
When I was with him.

Every curve and line
Represented the edges of fantasy
That we were standing on.
But with every kiss
My dreams came true
And every unimaginable wish
Turned to reality,
Giving us a step ahead
To stop us from falling.

Yet all good thing come to and end.
Remembering that this time next year,
We'd both be gone and left as a memory.
And this picture,
Along with others,
Would be the only proof we once were.

Tears threaten to escape
As I gripped the picture tighter.
What scared me the most
Was that we both
Have the ability to move on.
And the only thing stopping us
Was the recollection of love we once shared.

Tears spilled down the side of my face.
I didn't want to move on-
I'll be forced to.
I wasn't allowed to have a choice,
Wasn't allowed to hold on,
Wasn't allowed to want more.

Of this. Us.
We were what we were always going to end up being:
A dream. Magical.
Yet never lasting in the end.
Since we were too perfect.
It was too perfect.
He was too perfect.

Everything I ever wanted
Thrown away almost as I had finally
Grasped it.
Calling it mine.

I never wanted to let go of the best thing
That ever happened to me.
It wasn't fair.

The image of us
Was always going to be
A reminder that perfection exists.
And so does pure love.

I gently placed the picture back,
Along with the other snapshots
I had taken of him.
Happiness written across his face.
He was like my happy place.
In fact, he was much more.
And always will be.

Keeping this photograph meant something.
It meant I was never  ever letting him go

His hands skidded across my skin
His eyes were smoke-screened and I questioned him
Did he know who I was?
What he was doing?
Where we were?
He grabbed my hand
His lips pressed forcefully against mine, rough, bitten.
My lips matched his but they were.. delicate you could say.
Because I was seven.
They weren't full, they weren't sweet, they weren't "tasty"
The fact that my "kisses" were "good" was not something to be proud of
I'm fifteen. I know what you did now. I know how you hurt me.
There's only one thing I don't know by now.
why the **** did you do this to me?
i was only a little girl
but now i'm still just that, only hurt.
you shouldn't be proud of what you did.
you shouldn't be happy with yourself
i don't know if you'll get what you deserve
i just know that i didn't deserve that
well i might've.
*see what you've done?

******* up
I've done enough
Please hold still
This will hurt a lot.

I dreamt of you last night.
Did you wake thinking of me?
My shoulders and back
feel cold now;
it's where your body
should be.

I dreamt of your hand in mine;
fingers laced, you holding me.
And then, it seems,
I awoke
to this cruel reality.

In the thicket's shade
a woman by herself
singing the rice-planting song.