The Best Friend

Location

95051
United States
37° 21' 35.3808" N, 121° 58' 53.166" W

What is a best friend?, I ask
I can sit and ponder all day,
But I can't pretend the thought doesn't last,
Someone I can confide in, lean on, laugh, and cry,
It's something, a feeling, that most people would die
For but then I must wonder, do I?
Who am I?
Where am I?
I look to my left,
Puzzled and trying to make sense
Of the broken glass that's shattered, resembling my presence
It's not easy pretending I don't see what I've become,
Come but I'll run,
But do you come?
The pathway is narrowing, darkening my sight,
I thought I could see you, a glimpse of you, slip back into the light
But I,
Without I
But it's fine, I don't mind.
Come tomorrow, then the day's end,
It's lonely and scary,
Where are you, best friend?
One night, two, three, then four,
I promise, I swear to you,
I'm still waiting by the door,
Waiting, hoping, praying.
Tick, tock.
The piercing reminders of ever caring and trying simply fall,'
But with all these efforts that I've made, do you even notice my screams at all?
Wake up, but it's too late
I try to collect the pieces of me, shards slipping in between my hands
Then, what is this? Cold, careless feet,
Crushing and stepping on what I thought was left of me
Is me
Should be me
Then why, best friend?
I can never take back all the time and a part of me that you've stolen,
But it is no one but I, who's in trouble, at fault,
Why did I let my guard down? I should have known from the start
That this was all a game,
A tiring, cruel game,
That would leave me but crawling through the dark, enclosed spaces of the hole,
Left to question myself
On my identity and individuality that defines me
And only me
Not those that tried to push me and forget what I was taught
Nor the ones who dropped me along the way, trampled on, but yet forgot,
To respect me, value me, appreciate what I do,
If they only knew
But they knew.
Yet, when you're defining the best friend,
Do you consider the countless times you've been deserted when the times were the most rough?
And how long do you lie there on the ground before deciding enough is enough?
Now, as I've neared the end of the path,
I look over my shoulder, keenly taking one last glance,
Before sprinting into the sunlight's welcoming open arms, never looking back.

Comments

fibrahimb

This poem was inspired by a rough patch in my life. I felt it was important to document my journey throughout and find a way to express all my thoughts and emotions, and this is where I went with it...

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