You know you were my first love. Should have been the last.

Now you’re a dried up memory.  Lost to me, and all we knew.

Maybe if I had been good to you,

Maybe you could have held on.

But even I’m not that prideful.

You were always on your way.

Down, down.

Nuela, my love.

Nuela, my heart.

You should have given me time. To love you.

To know you. The way you know me.

I cry out for Nuela.

But the tears are for myself.

Why did I want to leave you?

Why didn’t I see the way the others did?

Why didn’t I bid you life?

The way you gave it to me.

Before I was even old enough to know a thing.

Then you had to go and wash up.

On that Friday afternoon.

We said our last goodbyes.

I should have held your head.

Now you’re lost to me.

And everyone we knew.

Nuela, I remember.

Forever I will be carrying you.