Meathead Monologue

nine years and counting

she's a friend that i take for granted.
a tough woman who always steps in between.
she stands over me like a mother would over her youngest and dullest child,
knowing they are bound to do something wrong.
and if she knows anything about me,
it is that i need to learn from experience.
so she's there to hold my hand in crowds,
and when i swat it away,
she'll still offer the next time, and the time after that.
because she's a friend i take for granted.
she's a friend i let get put down,
when i know the truth.
she's a tough woman who knows what it feels like to grieve and knows what it feels like to be alone in your own skin.
she's a friend we all take for granted,
and you know her, too.
she's a friend we all talk about,
i know you know her.
but you know what? she's tough.
and she's always there for me,
and she'll be there for you if you ask her to be.
she'll hold your hand in crowds if you ask her to.
she'll watch over you if you ask her to.
she'll be your friend if you ask her to be.
she's a friend i take for granted.
and she loves me.
i just hope i love her too.

r.k.