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He's My Best Friend: A Poem

He was my best friend

No

He is my best friend

He's still here

Even though the air around me has thickened

And the shadows creep up my arms into my weak veins

He is my best friend

People use gay like a bad thing

Like loving someone is an insult

But when you don't put yourself under the category of loving another that way

You feel like something is wrong with you

Like the way you look at her is invisible to all around you

He is my best friend

You know those weird bush half pine trees that grow in cemeteries

He said they only grow there because they thrive on sadness

If they thrive on sadness then why don't they grow on me

He is my best friend

I remember we laid on the hill

The moon shone and his smile shined right back

The stars seemed like dim fireflies compared to his heart

Baby, 1923

I visit my best friend often

Anderson, 1890

He sits to the east

Johanna, mother and friend

He is my best friend

He made me feel like tigers and stripes lived in the forest instead of my skin

I'll never forget when you kissed my palm and said you'd always be here

Where are you?

You're my best friend

I've forgotten what stone you're made of

He IS my best friend

Why does no one place flowers at the base of the stone they put you under?

He is my best friend

hes-my-best-friend-a-poem

© 2019 Austin Koeckeritz