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Sunday, November 25, 2007

Childhood Friend

It would have been okay to say, “No,”
(I know)
But the thought of being alone
Was startling.
Though I am guilty of hypocrisy,
I was glad of her presence,
Warming my heart
In ways I cannot understand,
Thus unknown to man.
We traveled back in time,
Playing games of childhood
And releasing our worries through words.
I did not mind the tradition
Of separation-
Individual blankets, but sharing the bed.


I would communicate,
But for the words I am choked by.
At this rate,
I will never use my true voice again,
Only the autopilot of pleasantries
Devoid of any subtleties
Or unchecked emotion.
There is no rhyme or rhythm to my speech,
But of my heartbeat there is plenty.
So ignore this forked and twisted tongue,
Hold your head
Close to my chest
And wrap your stethoscope arms around me,
Enjoy the sound of what I feel
But cannot say.
Good day.