To the Friends that I Have Lost

A letter to all those that I have cut, sliced and diced from my life and those who have done the same to me.

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1. To the Friends that I Have Lost

I dreamt of you the other day.

 

Meanwhile you crossed my mind.

 

And you, well, I’m afraid to say I am in love with you,

Quite horrendously too.

 

You, I miss desperately, for I see your mother most everyday

She asks if we speak and I, with my gut in my mouth lie that ‘no, we must catch up someday’.

 

You, you are a whisper of my past, who kisses the missing parts of me. My hands scramble for hugs as I stalk your Facebook where you don’t seem to be.

 

Your ginger hair it haunts me, as I cross your staring street:

I walk with sadness on my shoulders into the foyer of your father’s restaurant, who smiles politely and asks like a stranger if I have decided what I want;

Your mother’s eyes they pierce my soul, like they always did and I often wonder if she noticed that lost kitchen knife

that you danced with so delicately to cut me from your life.

 

And then there’s you.

 

You.

 

He who stands lonesome. Who screamed so often at me that these sounds drowned out his own. He who laughs as he admits that he has found himself alone.

I recall the Halloween disco, that we attended when we were small.

You dressed yourself in wool and came as a sheep. Said, ‘I don’t want to be scary, I’m sorry, it’s just not me. I don’t want to be anything but a sheep’.

And I taunted you, teased you for this obscurity. You said again, ‘I wanted to be a sheep’. And I laugh, for that’s what you became.

 

And you.

Your name climbs my hit list, as the school year dies.

And I see your features fading behind your glasses, in front of my eyes.

Your laugh no longer rings and your smiles no longer sparkles.

And I already see the future, what is coming;

I see myself, alone, friendless. Like I seem to always be.

I see a letter written to my friends, and what we might have been...

 

 

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