Text: Puberty

Human beings are very complex, some are harder to understand than others.
You can’t get a whole perspective, you can only deal with one day at a time.
Puberty, it’s like having Tourette’s.You can be okay one minute and not the next – because the world is changeable.
Sexuality is one of the most important questions, it’s difficult because we don’t talk about it.

In this story, my story as in a dream, I am everything. Do not take for granted the soft gale that blows like a summer breeze. I am a mansion. Fierce, mythical, mysterious, my heart, my love, my longing, like a warm house fire, reaches out across the rooms.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Yet my tears fall, unseen.
I am a fire raging, a roaring tiger, Intense, red beetroot ripe, I am an adventure to myself. I journey to the centre of the earth, a round sphere digging dog like, bright yellow happiness.
My soul is an empty warehouse, full of potential, stilled like a goldfish in a bowl.

I am a small old shed inhabited by the biographies of the person I am yet to be.
How can you understand me if I do not understand myself?
I cannot draw myself complete. My body fills my mind. Respect. Who? Oh why am I so lively?
My head pounds to the sound of my galloping centaur hooves, which course through my veins blood red, filled with rage filled with heat, with desire, excitement and fear.
Why do men’s hearts give out before women’s?
I dig my hands into the earth, fingers curl around unfamiliar forms.
As my body sprouts I am an oddly shaped potato.