When I think of you...

Sat, 12/16/2017 - 21:07 -- Launnie

Yesterday I was enjoying myself while running!

Impossible! I know right?

Maybe it was because it was warm, but not too warm.

Sunny, but not too sunny.

A light breeze playfully tugging at my clothes and my hair…

Or maybe it was because my best friend was running with me that day.

I, teasing them as I ran faster, making faces as I turn back…

As I turn back…

To see nothing behind me but an open country road

To see no one behind me but my cat that followed me out here

You, my best friend, were not there.

Sometimes I forget that you're never really here…

Sometimes I wonder if you're just a sick trick my mind plays on me

If I really just spend hours and hours skyping myself some days… staring at a blank screen talking to myself

Best friend, I wonder if you're real

I found you when I most desperately needed a friend

You're my saving grace but how could this be anything but a twisted dream?

Every morning i feel like I'll wake up to realize that's all it is

I often find myself turning to tell you things when I know you won't be there.

You've never been less than 955 miles away and somehow I always forget that

I play pretend so often with you… I imagine what I'd be doing if you were here too and I guess I'm too good at this game

Because I've never even met you in the flesh best friend.

How could you have ever been here?

How could I have ever been so stupid?

As to let this happy thought sneak into my mind.

How could I have ever been so lonely?

To let myself get to this point.

How can I know what's real best friend?

If I can mistake a car in the distance for a whisper of your voice…

Best friend, whisper next time we talk…

I want to compare it to the tires I heard earlier.

I want to know if your voice sounds heavy enough to crush my skull too.

And if it is, maybe when I run to you next time I hear you quietly call my name I'll finally be able to break open the secrets of this brain

Maybe when everything is splayed out on the blacktop I'll be able to hear your voice for real this time

Or maybe the illusions I've been under will spill from my head with the pooling blood and grey matter…

This poem is about: 
Me

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