My bestfriend sings a song about her best friend in the hospital and it takes me a moment to realize she means me
The chords remind me that she cried for me amongst the faceless mass of our anonymous, all knowing town that is a face that knows you but you only barely recognise I call him first, before anyone else I call him because bless this boy he still loves me, he says this 12 times before I say goodbye, which he refuses simply with a see you soon It is simply complicated how much and in the ways I love these two people To an extent I could never tell them, to an extent I can write them this poem and tell them I love you more than I love you I am sorry more than I’m sorry You both kissed my nose and forgave me even as it was used as an accomplice in my addiction it was the artist that drew on a mirror with a razor blade with little white lines that looked too much like my waist at times He kissed my lips even though he knew that I had lied to him with the same exact ones He held my hand even though I had used the same ones to hurt myself, thus hurting him She told me she loved me even though I hurt her She held my shaking half seized body with hurt in her eyes but selflessness in her actions I held on because they loved me back in the same different continuum that is love I loved her like I loved music I loved him like I loved the setting sun Not more or less but differently I sent her to haze, I sent him to hell And he walked out of the flames with a bucket of water to extinguish my fire She walked out of the haze with a new song just for me It is my everything, these two beings not being my whole reason for life but being a part of it and making it worth living
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AuthorThis is my daily poetry practice for my intro to creativity class. Archives
March 2018
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