I stole from you and you never found out
You ripped my hat so you sewed it back
And bought me a new one
Fitted (hid it in my locker)
You made fun of me as a young child when I spoke to myself
I decided with you to treat each day as new
You lied to me and told me fantastic tales of hidden caves
I defended you from hungry wolves when you met with the masses
You told me you loved me before you met me
I broke your favorite toys
I carry all of your secrets like Atlas against the Earth
You helped break my hand and now we don’t speak
You taught me how to breathe music and be rhythm
I wrote you a poem but you didn’t seem to care
I would meet you late at night in the cut-through by the river
You brought me everything you had as a gift when I was sick
I used to make you laugh in class with every word I said
You gave me a drawing that you spent hours on
I have always looked up to you and not-so-stealthily idolized
You make me really, truly, irrefutably happy
I fell asleep on the highway driving home after caring for you
You saw me dying but you laughed and kicked me instead
I have my fondest recollections about your bounds and welcoming waves
For the longest time you were the outlet for a developing imagination