I remember the times when we rode our bikes in the street-

how we laughed because my knees

crashed into the pavement.

We could never go without squealing in laughter

as Miley Cyrus shoved her brown hair

under a blonde wig right before

her cover was blown.

Time passed and we grew taller,

our thoughts turned to boys-

we slathered on mascara to stand out;

But we still laughed;

only now shrieks of laughter

preceded tears as we watched

others our age deal

with pregnancy scares, drugs

suicides.

Florida became the hitch in our road.

one thousand, thirty-five miles of memories

trailed behind me as my father’s Benz

moved farther and farther away from you

and everything I’d ever known.

The road lengthens

With every passing year-

Now our laughs are few and far in between;

Our long texts shorter-

Words like “yeah” replacing “No-

I’m having a shitty time here; I miss you.”

Weekly phone calls morph into

“I’m too busy, text me.”

Every new topic of conversation artificial:

nothing real like mutual friends,

boys,

classes- to hold us together.

Those girls who hated me

in elementary school and who

only think about “popularity”

take my place as your best friends.

My art creates a wall I hide

behind from getting closer

to what we used to be…

and we let them.

But the memory of what was plays on

like the never ending road spanning

across the United States;

I will remember your smile,

our inside jokes,

every time we lied for the sake of each other.

And I will wish you the best as I make new jokes,

remember new smiles,

and tell new lies.