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.
The true test is wonwhen being togetherwithout saying a wordis everything.
Stella scribbledin thick black textaacross half the pagesof my best storybook,filled with people who venturedwhere their hearts took them.Beautiful worlds beyond mine.
I'm all alone,fuming at myself,waving a great flagof failure.
One more year and I will be closer to wherever I'm going.
There're three reasonspeople get away from here:gone good, gone bad orgone dead.
Growing up changes morethan playground gamesand body shapes.
I'm justthe reason they married.Mum saysI was a surprise.Dad saysI was an accident.Truth is ...I am their mistake.
It's nice to think that picking uncertain paths may not necessarily alter their destination too drastically, simply the journey undertaken to reach it.
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.
Then she smiles, like it'sthe first time she's seen sunafter a decade of winters.
Things should have beenso differentto the way they arenow.