My best friend has superpowers. She’ll go outside and strip off her clothes and show herself to every person passing by. She screams too loud and loves too hard and feels everything. She’ll hold you and lift you up and make sure you feel everything too. You’d want to wear her words on your feet everyday because they make you feel taller. They never go out of style and they never bore you. The things she says are the things you couldn’t.

There are so many types of beautiful and my best friend's the best one. She’s the kind of person you can’t control. The more you try to settle her flames, the bigger her fire grows. She is a bursting flame.
Sometimes my best friend is a candle. She feels too bright and burns herself up to give others light. I feel she should dance in her own spotlight. I feel others should warm their hands by her bonfire, but they should not steal her light. I wish I could let those who do burn.

My best friend is the kind of person that doesn’t catch herself when she falls. She falls and relishes in it. She lives for the fall, loves the thrill of it.

My best friend unzips every part of you. She opens you up and holds your insides and keeps them warm. You wish she wouldn’t zip you back up. You wish she’d take you with her and tell you stories about the stars in her mother’s eyes and the way her boyfriend always gives her what she wants. She always gets what she wants.

My best friend is the best storyteller. Her stories make your eyes flutter. You can’t help but smile because her vocabulary is too large for this world and I drown in it. She is never a ******* step to climb. She is your knight in shining armor, the apple of your eye. Your first choice. She gets you places.

My best friend is free. She has too much soul to be hung up on a person or a thing. She loves herself too much. She can’t possibly love anything or anyone else more.

My best friend taught me not to make homes out of people. “Doing so will leave you homesick and sad”, she said. I didn’t listen to her and found she was right. Missing arms that cannot hold roofs, hearts with shaky foundations.
She taught me people like us weren’t made to be pretty. “You were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky.” We are the sun, she and I.

My best friend is the crazy kind of crazy. The kind of crazy people laugh about. The kind of crazy people try not to fall in love with. It takes some time, but falling in love with my best friend is inevitable. I’m glad her kind of crazy exists.  

I can’t help but feel that I don’t have this kind of crazy. I feel like everyone’s a little insane and we all walk around with this armor of sanity, and she’s just able to cast it off completely. I’d almost like to join her and run around the city and scream as loud as my ears can hear. I’d like to let everyone know how much I love and appreciate myself, even if it comes out as braggy. I would love to be able to bear myself completely naked without hesitation and without second thoughts. I wish I were as terrifying and strange and beautiful.

My best friend’s heart bleeds sometimes. Sometimes, she breaks her fingers because she doesn’t like the way she touches life. She was born with glass bones and paper skin. Whenever the sun doesn’t rise for her, she crashes and she questions her magic. She tells me it’s an illusion.
My best friend is never an illusion.

I believe that when my best friend is gone, she will leave everything behind. I don’t believe that she will ever need someone to teach her to set her heart free. I hope she will find enough fire in her soul to do that all by herself.

My best friend will never be alone, though.