I am preadolescent and hobbling, foot to foot from my aching legs in the lingerie section of Primark. Last night, present day, Netflix and I watched blonde bombshell, Scarlett Johansson, supposedly unlock 100% of her brain’s capacity. “Learning is always a painful process,” she says. I should know. Twice a week, preadolescent me rubs ointment on my legs for the growing pains. It is jelly, cool ...

When I was 16, I wrote a poem about you.Obviously, I didn’t know you yet,But the poem was about you. It was a short one;Similar to something Emily Dickinson would write.It reads, “she vowed to listen to the oceans in his chest and search for the stars in his eyes.”That’s totally about you. I listen to the breath rolling in you chest. I stare into the galaxies that Your eyes hold. I love that yo...

i barely can contain excitement,because after hours is soon.your voice will ring in my ears once again!you sound like how honey tastes to the tongue,it caresses and massages my soul and my mind.your protective shield enforces around me, despitehow many after hours are you away?what i would do, what i would commit,to be in your arms,to feel you, to please you, to love you.i was lost, now i’m fou...

when i saw him first, he was a golden summer dandelion boy, with a too big halo around his head that kept falling in front of his eyes. with that goofy grin of his, i fell right into his life and no intention of climbing out. that is, until my warm sunset boy became my crimson red boy, his blood leaving his arteries empty and joining the crusade of raindrops trickling into cracks in the sidewal...