xiii. MY DEAREST FRIEND, HOW ARE YOU?
to someone who once knew mebetter than i did when i caught a glimpse of the lines carved into my palms,
you still haunt my mind
your name unforgettable
some memories untraceable
but many still lay as vivid as if they had happened hours before handmy heart bellows for you
beating for times no longer in reach
but i must ignore this pain as best as i can
because i know you no longer think of me
as someone you once trusted and loved with every ounce within youthat thought kills me
and i want to pick up the phone
call you
apologize for everything i've done
even though my mother tells me i never harmed you
yet i did
because if i hadn't
i wouldn't be laying here writing this,
drowned in the thought of how we deserved an ending, a goodbye,
not a faded friendship that was once heard of yet no one cared to jot down forwe were time wasted
happy ending unwanted
we were cursed under our fingertips ever
since we greeted one another the first day of our last year in middle schoolwe were blinded by the fascination of a freshly bloomed flower
with our names scripted into the delicate petals
that we didn't realize how quickly we would die out
the second we pulled it out of its beloved home for our owni sat too long picking at the same petals, our names no longer eligible considering it had collected the tears of my broken heart the night we had our first huge fight
( she hates me,
she hates me not )a battle between my heart and my brain
one where i did not want to pick and choose so i waited it out
pained by the notification of your name instead of happyyou tried to piece us back together
yet i sat back and bit my nails in discomfort
because i didn't know if these words were forced or not
and i didn't want to feel like a burden on your chest anymoreso i left you alone
and we haven't talked sincei ran into your grandmother late last month
she ranted about how her husband had to get surgery again
and how she was mad i stopped visitingi didn't dare tell her it was because
her granddaughter and i were no longer as close as we once werenot even a little bit.not even at all.
YOU ARE READING
on this day.
Poetryxvii, april. (ii). these words speak louder than i ever will. © playlist poetry h.r. : #55