Dear TBD

Dear TBD,

I need some time. 

But-

You’ll ask why and I dont know how to tell you

Its you. 

Time. 

That is the spell keeping me standing here. 

But-

I’m not sure how to fix this. 

I don’t know how to want to...

Or how to do.

I do not know.

It’s a new year,

And everyone is #NewYearNewMe

But,

What if I want to be

#NewYearSameMe?

I think my drive,

Came from our friendship,

Originally. 

Rooted in something so dark,

Trying to grow into something bright...

But not surviving. 

Struggling to breath like a fish dropped on the rough wooden planks,

Desperate for water on the pier,

Dying,

Gasping.

Without a stable frienship,

Or a good friend anymore,

I am the fish out of water. 

I am struggling in this friendship,

Struggling to breath,

To love,

To grow.

But a dry,

Underwatered,

Wilting plant wont grow. 

Once upon a time it was watered and thriving...

But we’ve grown apart,

Distant. 

It’s hard to water this friendship from a distance. 

Views are cloudsd between our different colored eyes. 

Emotions spilling haphazardously from the hazel,

A locked door slammed shut in the brown so dark,

As black as a moonless night,

When the wind whistles eerily through dying tree branches.

Sunlight glowing through burgundy framed glasses,

Glossing over the pain and tears like a fresh coat of paint. 

Every tear opens a door to forgotten memories.

One,

The first time we cried together,

I wrote you a story to dry the tears,

And our friendship started. 

Two,

A mustache filled evening full of laughter,

Surrounded by fellow artists. 

Three, 

Music floating through the air like a fallen leaf

As our competitive natures break water,

Swift as a boats maiden voyage,

Surging above the waves. 

Four,

A panic attack trapped against a rock ledge,

During a beautiful spring hike.

Five, 

Singing our hearts out to Disney as we return from days of painting. 

Six,

Late night,

Sleepy coversations at age 16 like no other. 

Seven,

Messaging first thing after waking up,

Last thing before falling asleep,

And everywhere inbetween. 

Eight,

The childlime excitement for

Jumping 

And jumping 

And jumping, 

Until we’re gasping for breath-

But somehow still laughing. 

Nine,

Painting all day, 

Over the edge of the stage,

Together,

All day. 

A friendship of memories,

A lifetime of experiences in a handful of years,

And also a year of hurt.

Of pain and many tears.

But maybe,

Maybe I should be honest with myself. 

With you. 

Two years,

Two years of hurt. 

Not one. 

But I write this reluctantly,

With a heavy heart,

With tear filled eyes,

With gasping lungs,

With shaking fingers. 

I write this but I do not want to. 

You are TBD. 

Because, 

I don’t know what to call you anymore...

By name?

Or friend?

Ex friend?

Sister?

Someone I used to know?

used to be close too?

Or just...

A memory?

I write this as a notice,

Of a tear.

As far across as the Grand Canyon,

As deep as the darkest depths of the ocean,

And getting wider,

Deeper,

Everyday. 

I want to say I wish you the best,

But-

I’m not sure I do.

I’m not sure of what I know

And what I don’t know. 

Is that enough?

What I do know?

I’m not sorry for having feelings

Or for feeling however I do. 

And maybe this is goodbye,

Maybe part of me doesn’t want it to be,

Maybe part of me is glad. 

But for now,

It’s TBD.

Signed,

A lost friend. 

P.S. I might miss you,

But maybe I’m tired of trying. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741