In Love With My Best Friend

-

Written December 12, 2010

 Tonight I said goodbye
To a dream I saw again
Something I once knew
A long time ago
In another life

I could go this distance
And yet another one
But why then do I find myself
Coming back around to this
Little town I cherish in my heart

I could do a million times
Better and the world is mine
For the taking so why
Does everything feel incomplete
Without you around to smile
And make me feel so much better

Forgive me for not leaving
Forgive me for wanting to watch
Over you this night
And the next and every single
Minute of forever

Some things I can't help
So I will let you hide
Somewhere no one can see
Someplace to call our own
Maybe someday I'll take you there

It will be our secret
Our hideout, far away from the distance
That pulls me into the pain
And some nights all I do
Is fall asleep in your arms

These dreams I say goodbye to
Forgive me for turning my back on you
The distance calls and I'm succumbing
To the painless, to the clearing fog
To a future where your smile
Is marked by its absence
Where other dreams spin themselves
Into a web of numb reality

Someday perhaps...
I will be lucky to be in love
With my best friend
All over again...

Comments

Post a Comment

Leave an opinion!

Popular posts from this blog

Throwback: Waltzing to the Tune of Rhetoric

-
Written September 7, 2010 A dark series of squiggles make their way down and across the page, in that order. Cheap poetry and lame jokes are the order of the day. For once the silence has retreated and is content to watch from the top row of the bleachers. For once there's no raining on the court while the ball's in play. There's a rose that lies at the back of my locker, wilted and fading away. It's a rose I don't expect to see in bloom again. It's a rose I've put aside, but one I cannot bear to throw away. Perhaps I should consign it to the bonfire I've made in my backyard, out of all the relics from the past. Perhaps keeping it in my locker is dangerous, for it might bloom again. Roses such as this one have been known to bloom more beautiful than before, long long after they withered away into nothing more than thin brown sticks and faded and detached petals. And in my excitement, I might just reach out and grab it again, forgetting th
Read more

Sweet Summer Child: A Love Letter

-
Image
Photo by  Petr Ovralov  on  Unsplash Written December 9, 2016 I am not a gifting person. Years ago, someone suggested I write them something about love as a gift instead. I made many starts, completed nothing. Perhaps happiness doesn't inspire me the way sorrow does. Then last year came the first and only love letter I've ever written. Does it mean more if you write letters? May I? Dearest. When I met you, the only taste I remembered any more was the taste of ashes in my mouth. When I met you, the sun had cracked open, and loss was everywhere.  When I met you, you were a shadow, hidden among shadows, a nervous joke whispered on the winds of my thoughts.  When I met you, I was looking for a friend.  Then I met you, and the sun rose again, whole and healthier than before.  I met you, and the joke turned to undying laughter on my lips.  I met you, and I knew longing again, my soul unable to bear its weight.  I did not know you existed, and in the wee hours o
Read more

Book Review: State of Fear by Michael Crichton

-
I don't usually have high hopes for action thrillers by white male authors. They're bound to involve super-efficient macho male protagonists, female leads whose greatest selling point is their attractiveness to the male leads, and the a plot that is basically all over the place. But, you know, you don't usually care because your flight is late by three hours and you need to kill time. I picked up State of Fear because I was chilling at my aunt's place and my phone was low on charge. I'd very wisely left my charger at my friend's place, so there wasn't anything else I could do except read. And the collection my uncle had left behind was mainly a bunch of atheist propaganda and also action thrillers by white males. *Snore* As I had recently had someone praise The Lost World  to me, I decided to give Michael Crichton a try. (I outgrew Jackie Collins by the time I was 13.) The book wasn't even engaging enough to prompt me to ask my aunt whether I cou
Read more