Poetry, Adolescents, Life
They wanted us to paint the sky with crayons, though we reached our palms to touch the soft dirt. Drying under our fingertips, green spurts pulling through their chests to grow out under the sky. The warmth from the suns gaze falling sweetly. Onto the flowers faces, yellow and staring. Seeds falling into our hearts. Eyes lingering for palms to touch. What eyes cannot hold, longing? Saltwater splashing on knees, soaked knickers and polo shirts . Sticky kisses, dripping vanilla cream. Strawberry lips, I remember thee. Daisy chains under a trees shade. A stolen secret, swept into the arms of youth. Summer came and went, watching butterflies fly away. Golden afternoons simmering into bliss.
To my fake boyfriend, you know who you were. Why do I still think of you? The words you said to me- so sweet, sincere and kind. Or were they scripts you read to every girl? I catch myself off guard. My thoughts slowly return to you. I am so confused. I'm in a relationship with someone so perfect, they love me for me. Why do I keep thinking of YOU? A guy whom I texted, yet fell victim to? You called me "too clingy", "too far away". You didn't text me for two weeks after our first date. One I ruined by rushing too soon, too late. I met a guy who despite being 3000km away didn't want to let me go. We now date. Maybe it was just the way we kissed, how it felt so right? Did you feel it too? I'm terrified that if I say any of this out loud. I will lose the one guy who sees a future with me. Yet, maybe it was those brown eyes. Those darn, brown eyes. And now I'm crying, crying for someone I never had. Who has a keepsake of me, I hope you shall cherish. It's sad, because you didn't buy me flowers and mail them to me on my birthday. You didn't buy me a pandora bracelet with a loveheart charm. You didn't sleep with a stuffed toy, for me to sleep with. And hold tight. The Man I am dating did. To S, this letter is for you- all my feelings will be left here. I move on. To my future with B. I now realise who I truly love. and loved.
Across Ocean At the age of eleven I was taken to the desert. The desert is barren, hot and dry. The sand or as I would call it red dirt, beneath the cracks in my barefoot. I’m sure it would have been quite a sight to see such white skin as we came off the plane. It was such a strange feeling, when I came to this country. The air was just heat, the sun splintering in midday. My eyes were not adjusted to such scorch. Blue like the sky, as blue as the ocean that we had left behind. We flew across the Pacific Ocean, leaving behind salt water, the blue orcas that swam far from view. Blue is a colour that I will always know. I only cried once. And that was when I said goodbye to my family, my grandfather. The bonds that tied us to our country, our customs that would be so far apart from where we would go. How on Easter, with the green grass beneath our feet, we would run and find all the colorful chocolate in our backyards. How the neighbor’s boys would always come around every afternoon, jumping on our two trampolines, and sliding down the hill. On Christmas it would not snow, it would be a sunny day, and the Pohutukawa trees would be blossoming. Red spindles in the branches, they were such a sight. We would go to the beach, dipping our toes into the icy waves. Running up and down the coast. Maybe that’s what I truly missed, what my heart yearned for so many years. When we left New Zealand, it was a choice my mother had asked. I do not know why I said yes so quickly. But maybe I was running from my own pain, grief I did not understand in my youth. But once we left that house at the corner of Nauclea. That would be the beginning of Australia, and the desert.