I used to laugh at the boys who felt heartbroken or saddened by a girl, I used to think of it as an absurd emotion. I am grown up now, and that kid inside me still wishes I could view such a thing in the same light mannered way, but I can't. I wish I could still laugh at those boys without a few painful memories of my own. I remember the first moments of shyly teasing, pretending that we didn't know what was going on, pretending that neither one of us will grow to develop feelings but I guess that is how the world works nowadays. I remember seeing her smile and it is the only thing that I needed to pick me up from a terrible day, a terrible day dripped off the page like rain of an umbrella, the very moment that I saw her smile. That smile, it's a rare smile, so beautiful and yet so mysterious in a way. I was content with just seeing her smile from cheek to cheek because it meant that she's happy and I guess all I wanted was to make her happy. I remember getting to know her, the more I learnt, the more I was intrigued. Sadly humans are the one beings that aren't living in a simplistic world where dreams are made to come true. I remember dreaming of her, and me, together (not in that sense for those with a slightly dirtier mind), we were together drinking coffee, drinking liquor, playing chase on a beach, watching time pass us by in each others arms.
I remember her name, and it may seem so simple but nothing was ever simple with her. Her name was complex, her personality was complex but it's the complexity that made her stand out. I wandered off a wrong path once or twice but suffice to say I knew which way I always wanted to go, I knew where I always wanted to go and it was right to her arms. In my eyes, there is none other more beautiful, more special and made me feel alive as she did. So although I haven't met her in person, I always knew she would become amazing things, only suitable for an amazing person.

I remember many details about that time of my life, the wounds are still fresh and the memories are still haunting me but that's the good thing about it, I can still remember everything that ever made me smile.

[The girl who made a million of my dreams come true.]

They sat in his closet,
His shoes.
In the comfortable dark.
They seemed like him;
Well worn, and content.
I looked them over
Believing they were homelike,
Believing they were soft,
Unlike the hard soles I wear;
The small and binding ones
That sometimes give blisters,
Making me feel that his shoes
Would be much nicer to wear.
"Try them", he said,
And he handed them to me;
So I put them on.
And they didn't seem so bad.
"Walk in them", he then said.
And once I'd walked a mile, or so,
I felt the pebbles that had migrated
into the tears that I hadn't seen before,
I felt the roughness of the tread,
already exhausted from endless journeys;
I bent to disentangle the laces,
frayed from having been tied,
and retied.
My feet hurt.
I put on my own shoes.
They felt different.
They suited me more;
with new-found room to grow.

Sucre I failed you
For I did not learn to speak
My teacher did not agree with me
So I did not last the week

Sucre you failed me
Bundled with a ***** because of gender
Her company a test of patience
So I escaped with the boys on a ******

But Sucre where we did not fail
Was the comfort that I could live in
A homely hostel with space more than most
Bar far the best place I’ve been

And so Sucre you succeeded
I got plenty well needed sleep
Lived a week of homelike activity
Regenerating energy whilst enjoying your pretty peace

Sucre where you excelled yourself
Was the endless extra sights to be seen
Many museums of my interest, devil hunting in the convent
And evidence of where dinosaurs have been

So Sucre overall
If I were to give you a grade
Considering fault beyond your control
I’d say you deserve an A!

I miss the stickiness of your skin; the tiny mountains and hills lining and peaking up on every different realm of your flesh; the soft, homelike feel of your radiating warmth filling the room from ceiling to floor with calming and loving air; your breath replenishing my pores and lungs keeping me still and free



....funny that i no longer have you but honestly i dont know if i ever did

To old, cracked and dripping,
No glory or mark, engulfed by pitting,
Yet erstwhile days contrast the modern,
Intuitive frame untapped to trodden.

Howbeit the fray, heartfelt be stable,
Breathing out wisdom while conjuring fable,
Elate is the keeper and akin alike,
For the roost is warm, and all homelike.

But rock to pebble upon the crust,
Run-Down brick among the dust,
The onset of ruin does bear much fraught,
Only the absent escape the rot.