Sometime after you lost your best friend
and I mine
I tried to step in but
my feet were never able to come close to being
big enough
to fill your mamma's shoes.
Sometimes
after she died
we'd go out and eat pizza
I'd buy
you'd eat
and I'm fairy certain our thoughts
floated along the same stream together
silently.
silently.
Sometimes
on barren holidays
we'd drive out to Dad's house
I'd read
you'd eat
and I'm farily certain our thoughts
would fly then too
along an even purple skyline together
silently.
along an even purple skyline together
silently.
Sometimes
on your birthday
I'd bake cookies
and bring you Captain Crunch
knowing all the while,
these thing never tasted so good
as when they were passed
from her weathered hands
to yours.
Now I work mornings
and you nights
the times we commune
few and far between
and the strained, sometimes phone calls
scream silently of a
shared loneliness on either end.
So I don't call much
I don't write often
I visit rarely
and if it's true what they say,
if actions speak louder than words
then
then
I don't love you.
Hear me when I beg with
this written whisper,
don't be fooled by
my cowardly inability to jump
deeply
into loving anymore.
In truth, I lay alone in the dark often
my thoughts
wondering about
you.
And so I just want to say
that I love you,
love you deeply and
that unfortunately
I also love quite
quietly.
When we lost our cheerleader
I grew scared
to love
even you,
to love especially you,
the only other one left
the one who reminds me most
of that cool blue her.