Bonna


What can I say? I connected with you the moment we met. You made me laugh in the most serious of circumstances. You were a rebel like me, but you didn’t care about showing it or not showing it. It came out every time I was around you.

We’d laugh in almost all the so-called serious moments with a language of our own. It’s almost like you knew just how funny life was. I admired you. You’re the type of woman who I look up to. Relate to. There’s something so intriguingly quirky about you. You were meant to do what you do. In fact, I believe you’re meant to do more. That’s how much I esteem you.
But you’re a knife, and I forget that sometimes. And when you slice through me, I’m left into pieces. And when you walk over them, I’m forever disheveled. I’m not as strong as you. In fact, I’m still a mush.
And now every time you laugh, I shrivel.
And every time you shine, I wane.
And every time you float around, I grow heavier, and heavier. I’m so tired.

When I see you, our talks are painfully casual. You know– those stupid, annoying types of talks? The talks that are so fake, shallow, and we both know it?

Because in your soul you know how passionate I am.

But here I am, all rusted up in front of you. Changed. And it’s the saddest thing in the world that our friendship has dissipated.
I don’t express it. I want it all to disappear, including you. But that’s just because it’s easier to erase things than to miss them.

But you’ll never know this, ‘cause you’ll never read this. And if your soul ever does,
I hope you know,
that I’m still there deep inside, and I miss you.

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