I scroll through my camera roll,
watching your face blur past,
memories taking up the screen,
each one favorited by me—
the old me,
the one who ate ice cream by the beach
without worrying about if what I am inside
is enough to get people to stay,
or if my outside is the one to blame;
the one who had sleepovers
without planning each conversation
in my head,
who wasn't preparing a witty remark
days ahead
for everything said;
the one who felt completely loved
with her best friend
an arm's reach away
a simple poem that isn't necessarily my best, but they're important thoughts I needed let out. love you.
love,
mari