Oh, sweet, sweet friend
How may I describe you?
The beauty of our friendship
Is of much more value
Than a baboon's ***.
This, I'm telling you,
Is that a baboon's ***
Isn't of much value.
You're like
Something I'd walk on the streets of New York
where many feet trample on the pavements
where spit hits ******* the ground
and dirt rubs and snug itself tight.

You're like
The sound of beautiful woman
Inviting me to a nice, fancy dinner
in her huge mansion
With her gorgeous husband
And laughs along to his lame jokes
and gives me a toast
under the lights
of the golden chandelier
as her precious goods bounce around
in that low-cut dress
so absolutely sweet you are,
how much I adore the love in your voice,
the gentle one that kisses me goodbye
If only it was real
and not as fake
as the eyes you bear
when you tell me
I'm amazing.

You're like
a sweet wrapper
I'd happily look at
feeling **** guilty inside
nevertheless.
That crunching sound it makes
As it opens to a beautiful sweet
Chocolate! I chew you up and
swallow you down.
I'd never think something
so delicious and innocent
would hurt me so bad, and give me
Black teeth. Or potentially diabetes.
Nothing so tasty would **** me
slowly inside
forget the temporary pleasure I had.

You're like
Fresh, long hair
and a pretty little face
which bears ugly lips
that shoot out ugly words
and claw people around their necks
and suffocate their freedom of speech
or their opinion
and snubs out their rainbow
like a cigarette
My dear, you’re a monster!
Have you no taste for uniqueness
and creativity, a knack
in weirdness, the love
of awkward hellos,
and a shy but determined being
in the making?
You press down the people you think you can ****.
You, with your sharp words
and condescending eyes,
scrutinize my every move
and throw snide remarks
behind my back,
Honey, don’t you realise
You’re not perfect?

So I've said, you're a sweet, sweet friend.
You are!
As sweet as the poison that kills me
before it reaches my heart.
It has already killed my ability
to lead, to be empowered,
to be free.

So, my sweet, sweet friend
feel free to lace up the shoe
and wear it if it fits.
One day, I'll step on you.

Behind this little curtain, I hide.
I do not lie, but I do not tell the truth either.
I do not flash it in your face,
but I'm afraid you may know my

secret.

If this happens, everything will turn upside down
and I need to find a paper bag,
where I'll readily stuff my face in and hide under a rock
Until maybe all magically is forgotten.

I am ready to tell you the truth, however,
although my paper is transparent, a see-through glass,
piles of white lies may start to stain it and soon,
it will be so opaque you have to dig deep into there
To finally see the face that's hiding behind.

I am not desperate or a stalker,
or you know,
the one that sends you long text messages
and waits eagerly for a short reply.
Whenever I try to forget you,
you pop into my memory and tempt me into no bounds
of imagination. It's necessary I try not to follow,
but I always end up falling in the same hole.

So please understand, that if I suddenly reveal my identity,
do not be taken aback because this is what I have to do,
for you have caused me to be slightly obsessive and
longing for even a slight bit of communication between
us. The us that I dream of, the us that happened, what of it is left?

To start anew? This is rather painful. I don't want to forget, you see.
You were so lovely and sweet. How can I erase you from my memory?

People come and go, but you stay, longer than I thought you would.
This attachment is detrimental to my being. If any longer your existence influences me,
I will stop living in the present and reality and just dream on about non-existent parallels,
wasting so much time and feelings.

Okay. So this is why I'm being so secret there. You would only talk to me that way.

Because,

you wouldn't want to talk to me.

Thank you, dear, though, for that sweet little message.

Gorgeous
Sweet
Mature
Open-minded
Smart
Witty
Funny

That's you.

They loved each other
They showed it passionately.

In front of billions of eyes,
they could've kissed,
they could've loved even more,
romance stronger than before.

Feelings were, however, locked in ice
And the two are helpless to just watch
as what could've bloomed, what could've soared
stayed still and couldn't move at all.