cyan.

With those blue eyes, mischievous laugh, that all navigated to your sad heart.

I stumble upon those tall shadows at night- reminding me of you.

Our rumbles through east side streets with loud bass muffled into the stars.

How I was the sunbeam peeking out from a cloud and you were the light reflection of the moon in a puddle on the street. 

God, what rare magnets we were.

Our plutonic opposites had a vibrancy anyone could physically cut out of the heavens.

We can question if you ever wanted to touch me- but let’s remember questioning leads to migraines. 

I still think about my friend- the one with his matted soul and mine too clean.

My old friend is still with me today- to stimulate, make me laugh, lust for life, expand my palate. 

Your clothes that once became mine now belong to a stranger.

I let go of any souvenir of you- I had to for completion. 

It’s brilliant that imagination and memories never die if you don't want them to. 

my old friend, please don’t become proud. 

i don’t thank you for our friendship,

i don't wish for you back.

my doe green eyes guide me just fine. 

just as fine as remembering you how we last were-

polarized next to each other in our sunday’s best just as the flowers were reborn again from dull winter. 

your closing speech proclaiming, “you know we all just try to be the best humans we can be”

my final vignette of you, with you.

you know, we all just try to be the best humans we can be. 

to my haunted friend- goodnight.