Is it possible for me to be a friend
to one who has given up on me?
From my point of view
it seems completely possible.
After all, it's common knowledge
that a person can love
someone who doesn't love them,
so doesn't the same apply to being friends?
But from your point of view . . . .
I don't know.
You have other friends.
I know this and understand it.
Whether they are "good friends" to you
– in the way that I understand the phrase –
I have no way of knowing,
no need to know.
But I do know
we were good friends to each other,
and I know
my feeling towards you has not changed.
In my mind I can be a friend to you
even if the feeling is not mutual.
It might help if you would tell me
why you have given up on me.
I don't know if I could understand,
but I would like to have the chance to try.
I have always said you are so good
at describing feelings
of which I have no experience,
so good that I can share emotions
that are unknown to me.
So will you not explain
how this one-sided "unfriendship"
came to be?
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
There is no doubt
that life would have been
far less complicated
if I had never met you.
But now that I have,
how could I possibly forget you?
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 3:48 AM UTC
I hope this reaches you,
somewhat crumpled and embittered,
but soft on the inside and still smelling of my fingertips and hair.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC
I never used to feel so empty inside
That I needed to cut my flesh
To make the pain more real
To give myself a reason
For feeling so bad
But now
I know the feeling of emptiness
You are in my heart
But you are cutting me
From the inside
My heart bleeds
But it doesn't show
To those who don't know
What to look for
And you
Aren't looking
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
Why would I choose
that famous sculpture
to be my avatar?
True, I do think a lot,
but I'm not so glum as he seems to be.
(Am I?)
And I'm certainly not a sculptor,
not an artist at all really,
though I hope my words
may be considered art
of a kind.
But - here's the secret -
that iconic statue wasn't always called
The Thinker.
When Rodin first created it
he called it
The Poet.
Could that be why
I was drawn to it?
It makes you think.
Well, it makes me think, anyway.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
I never used to feel so empty inside
That I needed to cut my flesh
To make the pain more real
To give myself a reason
For feeling so bad
But now
I know the feeling of emptiness
Now
You are in my heart
And it is as if you are cutting me
From the inside
My heart bleeds
But it doesn't show
To those who don't know
What to look for
And you
Aren't looking
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 2:23 PM UTC
As Christmas approaches I think
of absent friends.
Like you.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
Where are you?
I don't mean
"where are you in the world?"
That is information that I know,
more or less.
What I really mean is
"where are you for me?"
I know you are in my head.
You don't go away,
but I can never find you.
And I know you are in my heart.
So why does my heart feel so empty?
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC