There was a boy once.
There was a boy once. A boy who told me that I had star shine eyes and a fairyland soul and no colour in the rainbow matched the flush in my cheeks when I smiled. There was a boy who told me that I needed no makeup because no texture in the makeup box really did any justice to my maple syrup, dew-drop skin. There was a boy who took my hand and closed his hands around my wrist tightly as he kissed me, feeling my blood pulse through my vein with awe, like the surge in my arteries was proof enough that I was a miracle he could hold and it wasn’t all in his head alone and it made him so crazy-happy to think that. There was a boy who looked into my eyes and siphoned all of my dreamscapes into his endless amber eyes and for several lost moments, he told me I was the best damn thing his eyes had ever seen, He told me I was a princess, a goddamn work of Art, a miracle, a dream come true, all the colours of the rainbow, the sunshine, the starlight and everything else that was too good to be true, And then one day, He said, That I was too good to be true, And so like he came, Like tears that fall down my cheek when I’m alone in the rain, when no one can really ever know that I’ve been crying, He was gone. He was gone before he could look past my tissue thin shell that was built of nacre and broken dreams. He was gone before he could see the dragon fire inside of my cold glass vial heart, the fire that swirls in blues and greens and suddenly rages in ruby reds and gargantuan heights. He was gone before he could watch me aflame, fully alive and then fully dead with my heart still beating inside. So I picked fluffs of dreams, From the underside of the frayed carpets he had left unchanged for months. I rolled up my sleeves and washed my face, I put on lipstick that he said I didn’t really need, I watched sunsets all by myself, with a fully made face, in a party gown, I said, ”Screw you rainbow” and felt a little better. I rebelled a little and ate a lot and somehow, between the waning moons and starless skies, I saw myself from his eyes, Except without the spun-sugar filters. I wasn’t so perfect, I guess I needed makeup, My skin wasn’t all maple-syrupy because I was combustible material and the wars inside my head, sometimes left scars on my skin and I think I did know all of that pretty well before, But he was right. I did have starshine eyes and a fairyland soul and no colour in the rainbow matched the flush in my cheeks when I smiled and for the first time in my life, I felt like I really was a miracle, a goddamn work of Art, a dream come true and that was when I realised, I had been fire and ice and sugar and spice and how dare he chose to see only what he wanted to see A.K.A all that was nice? I realised, That not even his caramel dripping sugar land words had ever done me any justice. So for the first time, in a long time, I laughed, soaking wet and drenched to the soul in the rain.