written for a friend i miss; for no reason. simply because its been a year since we felt like friends; its become an awkward friendship where we don’t talk and act like strangers. i suppose maybe to her we are strangers, maybe mixing a little detest in the little corners.
was it a rough 500 days or so ago – the awkward exchange of few words within a large gap of uncertainties between the two souls who were perhaps lonely for the moment, finding comfort temporarily in the eyes of another. We would walk through our favourite haunts, leaving our traces along the dark dusty corners of the corridor while i looked over to you to see your thin arms covered by the usual rosé cardigan i’d gotten used to seeing you in; since the very first day it had been the same one, the warmth it brought perhaps fueling you on through.
you smiled; exclaiming over your fluffy imaginations and favourite hues of bright pink; roses and the puffs of clouds in the sky being some of the most pleasant thoughts you would embrace, not even a single trace of dusk, such elegance and purity somewhat blinding;
i recall the times we spent; perhaps something i never forgot, somehow finding its way back once in a while pulling me back to the sunny days, reminding me about conditional warmth for the deserving. conditions marking thick lines along the smooth chalkboard; its hues an unforgettable vermillion.
conceivably the working of a little mistake, a twisted corner, a ragged end; yet once again as usual, you’re smiling;
“with rue my heart is laden”