Be Together

A disfigured labyrinth of words scars deep into the paper,
Like blotches of paint on an empty canvas.
Of blacks and blues, of letters and drawings,
They now look at me with disdain.

A detrimental reminder of the life I had lived,
Before I cowered within my own chains of self-inflicting pain.
Who even writes of hope and friendship and ‘best friends forever’,
Like naïve little girls living in their own perfect lives.
Because in the following years, when you look at me with scorn,
I will think back to those pleasant days with self-empowered resentment and neglect.

Yet back then, we were those naïve girls that sung songs and played games
And thought of how we would always be ‘best friends forever’.
We would always stare at the stars, knowing
How insignificant we were in a world of billions,
But to us, we were significant figures in our own lives.

And it was the smallest decision that had changed us all.
Shattered glasses of our perfect frames, splitting us apart across miles.
And when I saw you for the last time, when I had looked back at your disappearing frames,
I had hoped that maybe, maybe we would always be together.