Literature
Nostalgia
I remember
When I thought you were more beautiful than
The girls on the magazine covers
My young, bright, innocent eyes staring up at you
In adoration.
And I always wondered
Why you came home crying
And why you said you weren’t pretty.
I remember
Walking past your room on a rainy day
And hearing the music from your earphones
My eyes, older but still shining, widened
In surprise.
And I always wondered
Why you drowned yourself in music
And locked yourself away from the world.
I remember
When you showed me your scars
And told me how the blood on your thigh made you smile.
My eyes, dulled after a decade of life, with only a faint spark, s