𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞

an old friend

I know your life.
I know who you are
and I know your mom's favorite
song.
I know what makes you
cry and what makes you smile.
You used to be my best friend.
You were what I hated to admit
that I loved so much.
When I left, it tore me apart,
but I couldn't have avoided it.
I couldn't have stayed if I wanted to.
you were sad for a month or so.
everywhere you looked you saw where
I had once been.
you saw my brown hair blowing in
the wind and when you blinked,
I was gone because I was never there.
in those hallways you saw me smile
as I opened my old locker in that first
hallway.
whenever you went into the library,
you saw me standing on my tiptoes
trying to reach a book on the top shelf.
but then you just saw that it was some
other short girl wearing a knee length
khaki skirt.
when you went to the field,
you could see me sitting on the rusting
bleachers cheering you on.
but the only thing cheering you on is
the gentle whisper of the wind.
when you saw him with his friends,
you could imagine me staring over at him
instead of staring at you.
and while you watched the places we knew
become empty and broken,
I sat in my bedroom with boxes surrounding
my feet and a heart so broken that
I couldn't even open any of them.
when I finally opened one box months later,
your picture sat in a brown frame on
top of all the journals I'd kept.
I remember I couldn't see for a while after
that because of the tears.
I know that by the time I got up the nerve
to call you,
you hated me and had forgotten me.
you had found her and she was everything
you wanted.
she had everything you needed.
so I sat 800 miles away remembering
the way those city lights
would glow against your tanned skin
in the darkness of the night.
and I remember the way that you looked
at me like you actually cared.
I remember how you and I hated each other
but we loved each other so unexplainably
that everyone wondering what was
going on.
I moved on too, and I found my way.
I picked up the pieces everyone
thought they'd had of me,
and I rebuilt what had been lost.
I knew I'd never be the same,
but I tried.
Every now and then I think of you
and you of me.
and whenever the city falls under
the spell of the night,
I can still remember the way you looked
when I first saw you running along
the twilight lit field.
and I am taken back to when I first
realized what love was.

written on: april 10th, 2020

for: sephia, the one who taught me what love was...