Portrait of a Best Friend: A Poem
Yet another poem that I found in an old literary magazine from high school. Hopefully, if Nana reads this I won’t get in trouble for the skipping school part! Enjoy!
Portrait of a Best Friend
She taught me how to put on makeup.
She taught me how to cry.
She taught me about boys.
She taught me how to survive.
She and I skipped school
to do wild and stupid things
like skating in the kitchen,
watching Peter Pan and eating cookie dough.
I remember the science project (fiasco)
(the one with mice and miracle grow)
the pizza outings, and basketball games.
Then something went wrong…
She changed schools. Moved away.
Never returning my calls.
Her mother tried to explain.
Hospital… suicide… she’s okay.
She could have talked to me.
I AM HER BEST FRIEND.
She taught me how to stand
on my own two feet.
To be myself.
And to believe in Tinker Bell.
I saw her, years later
at graduation. She was pregnant
with her second child.
Worn down with life;
her eyes dull.
We had gone our separate ways.
And for a second, our eyes locked.
For a moment our eyes were wet
over lost friendships, Peter Pan, and dead mice.
