The lead up to turning 30 definitely felt like a momentous occasion, but then things were… the same. I didn’t wake up and feel as though I had magically changed overnight into this ultra-sophisticated put-together adult woman. I still felt as though I had no idea what I was really doing. But I think the most mature thing about turning 30 was accepting that that’s okay, learning that we are all on different paths, and understanding that everyone’s milestone birthday is going to look completely different.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.  I have lived my life,

    And so have you.

But I need,

       Something more.  (I need)

Something to love

       —With all of my heart.

All these lines.

All these words.

All these thoughts, scribbled across paper for a girl I do not see.

(Not know.)

Scribbled in ink, staining the paper.

                                    Staining my soul.

                                    …But she is—

                                    …she is beautiful…

I stand before you now. . .

We are two poets. . .

Will you let me be?

Will you accept my world as it is?

I've only just wished for a second chance. . .

The word feels strange on my tongue. Like I might just taste it and spit it out because it tasted wrong.

I might as well bite my tongue and taste blood than say that word out loud, because the word girlfriend has never been reserved for someone like me.

Don´t you remember what you wrote in that message on that cold rainy morning in May?

Because I remember crying while I hid under the covers, thinking the world had surely ended.

mmm, her

nails digging

into my back

but no one’s

here

the sun

won’t peak

That is the question you probably ask yourself every time I see those three dots disappear.

When did this become so fucking one-sided?

When will I stop making the effort?

When will I call the time of death?

we met late in july

by a break in the sky

now our love is penniless art

thunder, thunder

over and under

recite the tale of my heart

"Hello best friend!"

Scribbled on the first line,

your name,

carried in my heart,

and written on every page.

I have gotten used to invisible hands.

They held my gaze, whispered to me.

Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.

It has only been a short time since they touched me,

And yet I am certain I can feel them now.

I do not want to—I do.

When Whitney Adebayo and Lochan Nowacki made it to the last two couples alongside Jess Harding and Sammy Root in Love Island’s season 10 finale on Monday night, fans were convinced this would be the day that we would see a dark-skinned black woman win the series.

But then, this is the UK after all, so maybe we should have seen it coming…