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ollie Nov 2018
I’m proud of you, still
For admitting it to me
I don’t know why
I was the first to say a **** thing
And the last
There is an art in meaning something to someone and not being able to convince yourself otherwise
And I can’t
Not with you
I can’t remember if you wore braces when we met
But I miss your crooked teeth
‘Cause it says a lot about growing up
You don’t see many adults without perfect teeth
Unless they’re like me and can’t afford a couple wires in their mouths
Unlike you
And the thing is that you’ve never judged me for it
It’s so hard not to say “well I’m poor” to everything when you’re surrounded by people who don’t think of 20 bucks as the week’s budget
And you’ve always had this understanding that kids like you don’t have
I’m thankful for it
You said that you check my poetry website
And admire the things I write
Though they’re little nothings meant for no one to see
I’m honestly surprised you never ask who they’re about
But maybe this one is about you
And how I think you’d look a little better with your head held high and a new kind of mentality
“I’m a genius and I’ve got this”
I know you don’t like the spotlight all that much but I think it’s cause you’re always watching your buddies from backstage
You ought to know by now that the backstage is my job
So you get that costuming and stumble on stage, write demands on the hands of everyone who ever told you to quit
And know that even though you’ve got a good six inches on me
Your head still fits on my shoulder if you need someone to cry to
Or my lap if you just want someone to play with your hair while you complain
I get it
Boys are dumb
And so am I
So are you
A secret, though
I’ve never met a ******* with no confidence
So you gotta let us know you can take a blow
And build it up
And sing these odes that I’m writing ‘cause if I wrote these bibles than ****, your voice could make you the priest or the church choir
Up to you
You can’t be stupid without confidence
But know one thing
It’s pretty stupid that you thought you could be friends with a poet and not have em write anything about you
I build whole castles out of these lines, and you were gonna need a room in here sometime
After all, you’re one of my closest friends
And I’m much too grateful for it

— The End —