she speaks of poetry

I ask for a little extra knowledge,
an insight into the workings of your mind.
I should not have been surprised
that friendship was what you wished for.

There is no friend better than you.
I tell you that, and I mean it,
and I am not lying when I tell you we are fine.
With anyone else, it would not be the same.
With you, I can be stronger. 

I passed you the note while the others were asleep.
I buried my head beneath my sleeping bag
could not face your gaze, though I longed to,
and I did not fail to jump when you tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

You passed me back the message,
your reply was beneath it
and as I read I could not contain my smile.
I reached out my hand, captured yours.

It may have only been for a moment,
a length of time I could not calculate
before the need for warmth drew us apart.
But I longed to kiss you then.
If only I had the courage. 

The words of your reply were held between my hands
with loving care.
I ran my eyes along the lines of tupe
again and again and again
and I held back my hope
but my relief could not be restrained.
I pushed my head into my pillow and grinned.

I could not be with you in that moment,
could not see your face
but afterward I longed for it,
if only to judge your reactions to me.
I want to understand what you see. 

I ran the words around my mouth.
A thousand times or more before I wrote them out
first in a draft, then with my hand
and thrust them upon you. 

I became aware one day.
I am not sure of it, even now
of how it felt in my gut
alive on my tongue,
when I knew.

It was a slow decision,
the works of months and agonising
contemplation.
Yet you were oblivious to my self inflicted torture.
You are still oblivious now.

I watched you
from a distance and up close.
I was (am) aware of your every movement.
The alcohol burned in your veins
made you talk, or at least more so than before
and I did not hesitate to take the position on your knee
and smile when you told me I was beautiful.
I can remember the burn of the blush on my face.

And in that same instant
you have me and the others your insecurities.
They made nothing of it,
you were just a boy like them
worrying over silly things.
But I saw you then, like I had only saw you once before:
the time when your gait had been dulled by fatigue,
your feet red and raw from the sharp rocks
and you told us your fear
(that we did not truly want you as our friend)
and I told you there was nothing to fear.
With us, you are the glue.
I am everyday to ensure you do not fear the same again. 

I remember the way you held my hand
dragged me into the street
and pretended I was the best in the world.

I remember the way I caught your eye
and saw the depth in it
lost myself in it.

I remember giving you my whole heart
watching you take it
use it, mould it.

I remember holding my breath
keeping my heart together
as desperately as I could. 

You have passed
the month of hardship
grown stronger
discovered something further
and perhaps you should continue.

There is endless more to discover
and senses to relish in
and words to create
and do not be disheartened
if things do not turn out how you wish.

Child, you have grown this month
uncovered something in you
which can no longer be dismissed.

Take what you have learned, take it
and grow. 

I worry about you occasionally
about how it must be inside your brain
to feel so alone.

I wonder what it must be like
to not accept your own joy
to live.

I see you holding in your urges
trying not to give the world your happiness
but I do not envy you.

I hope someday you can see the greatness
in sometimes losing your inhibitions
just sometimes. 

I never knew the space between the table and the sheets,
that place you refused to talk about.
I settled between the linens
made myself at home
and ignored the ways in which I was ignored. 

I guess that it has ended
this never ending battle of back and forth
and her and you and impossible to contain

you tell us she is right
despite the many ways in which she is wrong
and you cannot explain
perhaps you are too private

but in these moments
you are too much
you give us all of your heart
and allow us to hold it
treasured in front of us

you are fragile and breakable
this friend of mine
who starts the day with a sad sad face
and we try to make you smile
I guess that it has ended
I wont say I told you so

and again
you ask her to stay
pretty baby, won’t you stay