Good morning.

She wove the wool like braids for her hair; she tied it to my hand, couldn't help but stare. Her breath smelt like fresh mints, the one people chew after they smoke. She tied it so hard, it reminded me of all the times I was constipated. Is this real? Or is this all inside…

My friend.

You held my hand when there was nobody to play with. You filled my eyes with dreams when I couldn't sleep. When everyone else bullied, you showed up to console. Remember the times we spoke for hours together on the stairs watching the stars?? I can't forget the lazy afternoons we spent counting the cars.…