I held your hand,
Clutching it like a small child.
A drumming echoed in my
fingertips. The same
Drumming I felt when
We stepped on that rollercoaster.
When we walked into the first
Day of middle school.
And as we stepped onto
The dock, the old, withered,
worn out dock
Something felt.
Different.
We had been there
A million times.
Our footprints had left
Traces, on the history
Of that old time dock.
History.
A boat in the distance.
I was ready to get on that
Boat with you.
It neared us, an unfamilar
But welcomed prescence.
Unfamiliar.
I was excited. You were excited.
There was a connection,
A tie, a rope
That pulled us closer
And closer to that loan
Sailboat in the distance.
Little did you know, my friend,
That that rope was tied
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