I.
best friend,
you make me a mess
friend.
I
sit in suspension
waiting
for friendship,
and I am in last place.
I am prom night alone.
I am picked last for basketball teams.
I am the fat child
plucking at loose seams
while the other kids swing.
I am loose,
it seems.
unraveling
and barely me
beneath
useless screams
and salty streams
I want to
drown
between.
and here, again,
it's as though
I've been picked last
on your team.
II.
outcasts
cast out
seem oceans apart,
but I hold you here in my heart
of hearts.
we walk
same saunter
we talk
same tempo
we feel
soul sames:
forwards and backwards
again
and sing the same refrain.
love leaves lonely
looking future forward
towards less tough times,
and even when you cannot be mine,
I will wait for you
if it means standing in line.
