You told me that you are from northern Europe
but I didn’t understand why
your face resembled mine.
Since then, I have reminisced on the day that we first met -
you remain oblivious to it;
we were both smiling at ourselves, involuntarily,
before resting our heads on yet tangible idealities.
From that day then on, you became me…

As my lust turned to stone
I searched for you, every day,
at the very same place
where your presence consumed
my fatigue. For many months,
you never appeared
but I still remembered you well.

I wanted you to know me, unadulteratedly,
from my childhood beginnings
all the way to this come of age
that has turned me to what I feared to never be.
Free from all rationalities, I wanted you to come talk to me
like a stream of consciousness.

I found you on an unassuming Friday;
you had not changed,
not even after the previous pseudo-greetings.
You were alone, just for the time being.
We spoke rhetorically:
It was like talking to my eighteen year old self
after an unrelenting night vigil.

I have never been to northern Europe
but I identified with your history
and your uncultivated brokenness;
like an innocent child, you hid your mistakes from me.
And, like a mother,
you supported my most ambitious pursuits
as if you already knew
what I will eventually become.
You are the friend that I've always cried to know
when no one was looking;
when my voice was all I had to put me to sleep –
twenty two years of loneliness has now finally caught up with me,
but you will never know this…

I shared with you my abstract thoughts
beside the café table, while speaking in convention;
you were unaware of the vulnerabilities
and the crippling dejection
that nearly took my life
just two weeks prior;
but you soon became my God given purpose,
without any further reservations.

Somewhere, between familiarity
and a vicious cycle,
we shared the same identity
and undercurrents;
my weaknesses were never hidden
yet you still considered me a friend.

An atheist and a man of faith,
the most unlikely of twin flames
and blessings; you brought me happiness
even in my frailest moments;
all sense of distance became our sorrow,
in an irreducible amount of time.

But you are already the hard headed woman
of another man, to my despair; I knew then
that I had already lost my last true friend.

You washed me with white lies,
the crippling type from your mother land;
your emotions became your own worst enemy -
your confusion culminated
as I plead to you to be my best friend.

You didn’t leave without judging me
for my most unclean vices
that I was plastered with
by my own resentments.

I have now analysed your final words
as if it were the Torah –
as if you are coming back…

I soon found my head again, perhaps,
when I wasn’t even trying -
but the damage has already been done.

To see all progress put to a halt,
by misguided rationalities,
has rendered me the seer
of this perpetual
come of age.

Susan, I will always be your friend
and support you (when no one is there)
with interceding words that can only ever be felt,
and not heard. On a lighter note:
I have now painted your smile
somewhere within my pulsating head
that was bred
from the dark heart of Africa.

I will one day become a better person
even if you are never there to see it.
I will grow, even if you are not there with me.
God bless you, Susan(!)
and never forgot who you are...
Last edited by Bleed Away at Jul 21, 2014,
nice read. i'm sorry for you what you've been having to go through lately. this is a nice reading of how you've been dealing and how it has affected you. hope things look up for you in the coming days.
This is amazingly raw and the storytelling really sucked me in.

The blurring of identity imagery is too real, as is "my weaknesses were never hidden/
yet you still considered me a friend.", properly honest and powerful stuff.

I didn't see the you using her name coming, that was a nice surprise that hit home.

I'm feeling for you, hope you writing this has helped sort it all out in your head.