Remember When

~ 

Remember when I used to call you friend?

I lied. You were my Best Friend

A phrase I now associate with pink

Because that’s what you always wore

You were always the strong one

I, the follower

Which must have looked strange

You were a year younger

And I was always taller

Remember when I cried

And you were there

At the age we didn’t care

About anything but each other?

Remember when I felt alone?

You don’t, but I do

Or perhaps you did

Because you apologized

Where have those days gone?

Why did we have to change?

Of course we had to change

But why that?

Remember when I came that night

Every night, every week?

And do you know why?

Because I knew you’d be there

You had your own friends I knew

And I didn’t blame you

For not having the time

For me

Remember when I brought a friend

Because I couldn’t make my own?

You were instant besties

A skill that comes naturally to you

Remember when you excused her

To introduce to your friends

As if I had my own to attend to

As I sat there alone?

Did we know each other at all?

Because you didn’t seem to remember me

Remember how I used to wait every time

Because I couldn’t be alone

We had so much in common

Or did we?

We never really talked

Below the surface

Remember when I used to call you friend?

That used to be your name

It fit you well

Now I’m not so sure

~

A poem that is longer than a haiku (*gasp*)

This is not the one about what I posted on the Random Thoughts thread, just one I've been trying to get out for a longggg time.

I think of all that's happened

And something breaks inside.

It's never been easy, but the darkness now

Is ever-thicker than before.

With just one stroke of a key

They've told us--

"You don't matter,

You don't deserve to be heard,

All you get to do is to sit there;

Muted,

Silenced,

Suffering but unable to speak up.

That's right. 

All you can do is

Shut up."

A green meadow covered in gloom

With raindrops streaking, 

Like wayward stars, crystallised,

Then cast to their doom

Head full of thoughts and theories

Melding, sloshing molten seas,

But through it all permeates Song;

Yes, through all rings those cursed songs.

Bringing back memories of stories

Best left unheard

Bringing back thoughts of things

I'd rather have left behind

Bringing to light images, thoughts and feelings

I could have sworn I'd lost, for the best 

Bringing back words and tunes; 

Churning melodies 

That only end up making my tumultuous headspace

All the more stormy

And I wish it would end, those cursed songs. 

My eyes are filled with you.

I know you don't realise it,

But it's true. 

The way you've grown out your hair

Now the top is dark and the bottom is light, tips dyed blue

Extensions, maybe?

I don't know, but it was short and dark brown before.

Your bangs have also gotten pinned up to the side.

I notice you've been trying to look

More grown up these days.

Maybe that's why you stifle that beautiful smile

And try to look serious when you realise there are others around.

I'm not sure, but I miss your smiles and laughs,

And I'm too much of a coward to ask you to do it more often,

For fear of sounding sexist or rude. 

Even your clothes look different, you've stared putting on make-up too.

You're pretty, of course, but you always were. 

The way you talk has also changed, like you're trying to be more thoughtful,

More mature, more popular.

It's impressive, and I'm glad you've changed in a way you like,

But I miss the real you. 

I see the way your everything hesitates, insecurity peaking through

When you're talking but no one pays attention or someone starts talking over you.

My heart aches for the girl I know is tearing herself up underneath. 

I am not blind to the tired look in your eyes,

Nor the effort you put in that gets overlooked by everyone else.

You're amazing, really.

Why am I always the one getting angry and hurting in your place?

You never asked for it, I know

And I'm sorry;

It's selfish of me,  

I'm only your best friend, after all.

I have no right to be like this.

I know.

I'm sorry,

really. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Just more sad ramblings, don't mind me~ (つ`~`)つ

It is still raining

I wonder when will it stop?

It says, drip-drop, drop. 

It’s okay if you need time

It shouldn’t be a question

I just hope

It’s not my fault

I’m afraid to speak

For fear it will

Come out

All the things that shouldn’t be said

For fear that I’ll

Hurt you

More than I already have

The rhythm of this one is kind of loosely inspired by rap, I guess? It was kind of subconscious.

~ What is this thing

That dictates me

A part of me I

Didn’t put there

Did I?

Anyway, I

Must talk every second

Find some kind of

Something to make the 

Time worthwhile and I

Hate it.

Have to stay silent until it’s

Safe to voice my

Opinion or experience but don’t 

Speak up and lose my place and I

Hate it.

Anyway, I

Know I’m capable of

Being humble and not

Interrupting when I think I know better

But can’t stifle and I

Hate it.

Keep finding reasons to

Stay quiet when I 

Know the answer when I 

Don’t want to be different and I

Hate it.

Anyway, I

Feel the need to

Be who I think they 

Think I am so I don’t 

Prove them wrong and I

Hate it.

Take pride in uniqueness to the

Point of striving toward it so that I 

Find myself as distant and self-sufficient as I

Never wanted to be and I

Hate it.

Anyway, what

Is this thing that

Dictates me, pushes me to

Extremes that aren’t me

Never were, but

I’ve always been fascinated by

Spectrums~

@Jaybells, crushing on your best friend is hard, right?

Also, as a warning to anyone who came here looking for actual poetry, this is literally just me rambling :p

~~ 

Hey,

you left your lip gloss

at my place the other day.

I said I'd give it back

but I forgot,

and now it's sits on my bedside table,

catching the morning light at sunrise.

I forgot because I was focused on what

I was going to wear to your performance-

do you remember,

I was the only kid in the audience,

because you had one ticket

and you invited me and

not your mom?

Remember how you 

twisted your hands into your black dress

during your solo song?

I had never heard you sing before,

not really.  

And the other kids

you were acting with

called you 'Ginger',

the nickname you chose

because of your russet curls. 

I'm supposed to call you Ginger too,

but it feels wrong to me,

like maybe it's an alias,

a fake identity scrawled on

a forged passport.

Those theater kids,

they don't know you

like I do.

They don't know

about how you grew up in Canada,

and that your dad's moving to Wisconsin

without you,

and that you keep a jar of chile peppers on your table

so that your food's never bland,

and that you never wear makeup 

except for mascara,

and that Tony Stark is your idol,

and that you support Snape's redemption arc

from the seventh Harry Potter book,

and that you like boys and girls both,

but you could obviously never like

me,

right?

So how about this:

go into high school

as Ginger,

because it's simple and easy,

but can I call you by your real name?

Because it

means something

special

to me.