When I was five,
my mother told me I was loved.
Years later, she asked me to leave because
I was the reminder of the gruesome past that haunted her.

When I was ten,
my father told me he believed in me.
Years later, he refused to accompany me because
I was an embarrassment to him in front of the society.

When I was fifteen,
my friends told me I was funny.
Years later, they all laughed at me because
I was the gullible teenager who fell for their flawless façade.

When I was twenty,
this guy said I was beautiful.
Years later, he trashed me, tormented me because
I was ignorant enough to overlook my inevitable flaws.

So, sorry for not believing in you,
for questioning your intentions, inclusively, in-depth
when you told me you loved me because
I didn’t want to wind up years later,
learning it the hard way that people often don’t mean what they say.

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come

Dear Best Friend,
I love that I can tell you everything,
no matter how weird or intimate.
I love that I can trust you to support me,
no matter how crazy the idea
I love that I can call you whenever,
whether it's 3pm or 3am,
and know that you'll be there for me.

Dear Best Friend,
I love you.

Dear Best Friend,
We haven't talked in a while.
We speak, but not as much, not really.
Not about important things
Not about real things.
We don't spend time together as often.
When we do, few and far between,
Your mind is always somewhere else
We might as well not be together at all.

Dear Best Friend,
I feel like I can't talk to you anymore.
I feel like you're never around,
Even though we live 15 minutes apart.
What happened to all the late night talks?
All the promises we made, and
All the adventures we had...
Can they really be gone?
Why don't you make time anymore?
Why don't you try?

Dear Best Friend,
I'm tired.
I'm tired of making the first move
Like our friendship is a game of chess that you've forgotten about.
I'm tired of being the only one that wants things to get better.
I'm tired of feeling like i'm the only one that cares.
I'm tired of not being listened to.
I'm tired of feeling like it's all my fault.
I'm tired of trying to help and not being taken seriously.
But that's just it, isn't it?
I'm just tired of trying.
I'm tired.

Dear "Best Friend",
I'm done.