An old Friend

"We come into this world alone and we leave this world alone."

Alone.

It lives and breathes alongside us. 

I like to think that this word is an old friend.

As a child, it was the only friend I've ever known. They knew me better than anyone.

Their eyes were a dark voids filled with secrets. 

I could look them straight in the eyes, and no matter what I did those secrets were locked away in a world colder and darker than this one. 

Even with those eyes, their hands were filled with such warmth. 

It didn't matter if I was at my lowest point begging and pleading to God on my bloody hands and knees, or reaching out during bitter silent nights; those hands became my saving grace. 

I never knew such comfert could come from a cold embrace.

It was there that I found my broken home.

How could someone so close to me be so distant and hallow?

A part of me doesn't want to know the answer.

Deep within me, past all the memories of us, I do know the answer.

The other part of me, the one that shields my star strucken eyes from the truth, believes that someday the truth will disappear.

As I grow up a little more everyday, it's hard to hide from the truth.

You were the birdcage that brought me both joy and isolation. 

You're the only home I've ever known that's made me feel content when everyone else couldn't.

It's time for you to release me from your suffocating grip and let me spread my wings beyond this cage.

I'll come back to you, somehow, someway.

But the next time we meet again, you'll see what other worlds I have soared in a world without you.