Don't You Ever Break Your Skin

a poem

today my best friend told me that she carves her heartache into her skin;

not into her wrists or her stomach or hips

but into her feet.

and at that moment i didn't feel like existing,

so i closed my eyes and i floated.

my heart pounded at the door of my chest

but i didn't let it out, didn't tell her

the things she doesn't know,

like where her feet will take her--

'

--across the beach, lightly stepping, dancing on the sand

that the ocean must love,

for it kisses the shore over and over,

through night and day and night again.

the shore, the sand, it is loved dearly. loved,

i should have said, like you.

'

--across the road, where she is surrounded by cars but safe.

the white paint on the road is fading but it means everything it ever has:

just for a moment, she is mine to protect.

and the man in the signal is only light,

but he stops metal monsters for her.

if you feel safe with light and paint,

i should have said, i ask...no, beg that you feel safe with you.

'

--across the aisle, with her white dress whispering as she walks,

whispering blessings to her and the boy

who is now a man and now a groom.

he's enraptured with she who is soon to be his,

rejoicing in the day he first saw her,

grateful his days have all led to this one.

remember where your days are leading you,

i should have said, for your feet will carry you through every one.

but my unsaid words choked me, and i sat there feeling

that life was an illusion,

a dream,

a fantasy,

because this girl, my best friend,

i had always seen as the picture of bliss.

i had always seen her as kind and good and beautiful,

but happy most of all.

now i saw that her contentment was the illusion,

the dream,

the fantasy.

'

she isn't happy.

'

and i regret every word i didn't say.