Dawning Creations

Holly told me not to cry
as Billie sang, wiping a tear from her eyes.
Holly swore to me that
all would be just fine.
I told her I needed time,
crying for the beauty of a special time.

Listening to you sing Male Fantasy,
I felt like you were singing to me
or like I was singing to a boy
I used to know.

He was my best friend but
I couldn’t keep things that way.
We were the best of friends
until we hit puberty.
We tried our best
for some time, didn’t we?
It became too awkward
to play, anymore.

Best of friends can no longer be
when it’s not cool to hang out
with your younger cousin
because you’re in a gang.

I didn’t like guns.
Loud noises made me cry.
You started smoking pot,
ignoring me at school.
No matter how much I tried,
I couldn’t be cool.

I ate too much.
My music was dumb.
I was a nerd who got good grades
and I sucked my thumb.

But we were the best of friends.
How I wished you’d remembered, then.

When Billie sang that beautiful song…
No one knew of the friend I missed,
the twin that grew to be angry,
the cousin I adored,
the best friend who in grandma’s woods
we’d gotten lost and explored.

Most people reminisce about modern love.
I’m too busy
being stuck with the mind of child,
missing platonic friendships and innocence,
maybe that’s what I’m missing after all.