Everlasting Friend

It's 3.15 and I can't wash your words away. One of the first times you had really spoken to me in months and the last time I can remember you honestly looking at me. You've been ground down to a sham of what you were. We danced: each others' partners, but nowhere near each other. Revolving around our common vices and our common friends until eventually we collide, hard and raw and pushing the boundaries between mean and friendly; violence and want; what we are and what we were. The way you talked to me, the way you looked at me, the way you left finger shaped bruises on my arms, my hips, my shoulders. Not sure whether you held on so tight because you wanted to leave a mark or because you didn't want to leave at all.

I swear to God, I didn't mind.

It's not so difficult, the world is not so difficult

And you don't recognize the people who never left your side
the ones who loved you unconditionally
knew you were a jackass
but knew you were also good, sweet, a hopeless romantic, a talented artist
and someone who would do anything for a friend
who laughed with you and gave you space when you needed it
and held you when you didn't know you needed it
who answered your calls and texts at 12, 3.30. 5 am
humored your antics and bad grammar and self destructive tendencies
because they were just something you had to get through
and were always ready to pick up your pieces when you couldn't.
And we're the ones you've left behind so willingly.

A Slow Strangle With Your Feet On The Floor

I know you probably don't care about me one way or another

anymore

But I was thinking about you tonight.

And the thing is, I miss you. A lot.

You open your eyes, but I'll keep mine closed

This isn't what I wanted.
And it's not the way I ever wanted it.