PERSON Poem: Four Months and Others Thought About You, by Arielle King

I have this weird feeling that our friendship is going to end soon.
At the end of the four months,
you’d be a memory,
and probably my favorite one.
Your kindness
and love
captured me in a cage,
and I’d lose my freedom
if it meant I’d love you closer than just a memory.
You’d be remembered in the poems I’d never show anyone.
you’d be seen in photos hung on my wall in my 20s.
You’d be a friendly face that I’d never see.
You’d be remembered by me
for loving me well,
even if you didn’t love her well enough to keep her, and you loved another while still
with her.
And I’d be there, waiting for you to see me instead of them.
I’d let you break my heart if it meant I’d get to love you closely,
because loving you at a distance
is like when you finish a book and you realize you will never read it again for the first
time.
You’re sad because of it, even if it’s the best book you’ve ever read.
You’re mourning something that will never be,
and it’s killing you.
But at least I got to love you.
But it feels like you’d be gone,
because you’re not the type to reach out first,
and you love another,
I don’t blame you because I would love her too.
But she loves another,
And I still love you.
Expect feelings are in the middle of things, and God hasn’t opened this door,
but I’ll still knock to see if you’re home
And I’ll wait outside until you open the door,
even if you move cities
or houses
or wherever you go.
After four months,
I’d still be here.
and you’ll be there.
I’ll remain where you used to be,
waiting for you
because I love you.
And you said, “Maybe one day,
but probably not.”
I remember laying on my bunk bed,
when I was 18, staring at the ceiling.
“I love you”, I said to myself about you,
tucked away in my heart house,
moving rooms, because you couldn’t stay for long.
And when I turned 19, I burned that house down and sealed it,
but it was you that built it again.
Some of the rooms are vacant,
but you’ll always have a place in a room that I’d often visit,
one day soon.
You’re the person I loved in my 20s,
and maybe there will be another,
but you’re the first.
Thank you for being good to me,
showing me who I am and who I am to be.
Thank you for being my favorite memory.

Author: poetryfest

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