So I have these friends, they're crazy and broken and they do for my soul what America never could for Vietnam
(go on look it up).
There's the one that completes me, the one that needs me, the one that I need, the one with the perspectives, the one that is me and finally, the one that keeps me up way past the polite hours.
(keep them straight)
Now somewhere between leaving the neighbourhood and discussing heart surgery across packed train carriages, we grew up. No longer cocooned by walk home, far from the pavement and tracks we solved our most complex problems along, we were split by the world we couldn't wait to join.
(perhaps they stumbled into your world in the fray?)
& yet it only takes a glance to capture the feelings that never went away. The beautiful knowledge that we carry each other though our days. I board the train alone, it hurtles past a red Mustang and suddenly she's next to me, though the seat is occupied by another.
We haunt each others thoughts and through the distance, circumstances, priorities and perspectives we've found a way to work each other into our lives. So really we aren't just friends at all, we're more like family.
(& I can't have anyone dys the way we function)
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3 comments:
Your writing always makes me feel something whether you're talking about your reality or in fiction. I love that about it. Often it's a rationalization and complete inventiveness all in the space of a few words.
last sunday i thought of you. there were so many mustangs at towers.
i want to can has family wit chu.
(i am in singapore airport right now, thinking of the distance, & thinking how it's never really kept me apart from you.)
miss you with all my heart & then some.
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