Dear 4,412

Dear 4,412,

                You are the girl in the dancing rain.

                A friend whose name I do not know of.

                A flame that surprisingly keeps me sane.

                Our friendship is as strong as love.

 

                We’ve only known each other for months.

                Yet, already we have said so much.

                How can this be when we have yet to see?

                Our faces are only in the colors of yellow and green.

                Our depressions became our confessions.

                We have probably regretted our affections.

                Since now we stare at our reflection.

                Thinking about our gross infections.

 

                In different countries, we stay.

                For we all must pay.

                Waiting for the end of the day.

                With only one of us left to pray.

 

                Remember the day you were in pain?

                Where I could not be your shoulder to cry on.

                Back then I felt chained!

                The moment I was scared that you were gone.

                That was the same day we realized that we were the same.

                On the day of the twelfth.

                The day I felt so ashamed.

                Because I thought I was destroying your health.

                You titled me as an angle.

                I never saw myself as one.

                For I know these wings are mangled.

                I’m usually the one to run.

                I have much to say.

                But these words may never reach your eyes.

                For I fear I may have said too much for you to stay.

                I only wish for you to not cry.

                I shall not reveal your name.

                For I care about your identity.

                And you would have done the same.

                Because we both search for our serenity.

               

                This is the end.

                All is left now is a goodbye.

                I’ll see you online.

                Typing a message that is waiting to be sent.

                Hopefully, one day holding the simple words of.

               “I love you, my dear friend,”

Sincerely,

A friend. Who goes by the name Cheyenne Gomez.

And now you know.

 

 

This poem is about: 
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