Writing

I guess I'm happy for you.

Actually, I really am.

At least, I'm expected to be.

Because, if you can't be proud 

of one of your best friends,

can you really be proud of

anyone?

On my first day of sixth grade, someone told me, “You’re the only person that has said that to me today.” I didn’t realize the weight of those words at the time, but looking back, I understand how much they impacted my life.

Phantom Pain

I remember when we first met.

Terror laced in our spines,

 being introduced to the team.

We thought we were alone,

I'm six on the living room floor -

the pink album the pink album I chant -

dad puts the Supremes on the record player, the jacket handed to me -

pink, with three of the most beautiful women I've ever seen -

It’s morning in Paris, 

and the city still sleeps, 

though the sun has long risen 

and the cat has long been stretched in the light 

that washes over the quiet courtyard. 

One of my best friends

a friendship that may never end.

Insanely close we got

and in my heart I have a spot

for you because you've been there

every single day

for you because you've cared for me