365 Day Writing Challenge 10: Friendship

365 Day Writing Challenge

10. Friendship: Write about being friends with someone.

It’s weird looking back on the poem I wrote for you. It’s weird to think about who I thought I was. I don’t like her. In fact I hate her. She tried so hard to be the person she thought you wanted. But then you tried too. We created little moulds for ourselves, defined ourselves through our friendship, a friendship which fell apart as soon as we weren’t there to remind each other who we were supposed to be.

I was going to post the poem, but I just can’t. It’s too cringey, like seeing an old photo of yourself trying to be fashionable.

I don’t think I really do hate the version of myself that was friends with you. And the friendship wasn’t completely false. It was based on something true at the start, we just fucked it up. We were both so young. And I think that’s how I felt at the time too – when I was at uni it was genuinely the youngest I have ever felt. I always felt so much older than everyone around me. So, yes. You were good for the time. Good for being young. It actually says that in the poem. I don’t regret the friendship starting, but I don’t regret it ending either. I regret nothing. If you’re reading, I hope you remember this.


© Kate Warren and Rebuild Expand, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kate Warren and Rebuild Expand with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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For a Friend

Poetry

You were never just a wheelchair.

I promise you that.

I know that’s how people saw you,

and you were so scared it might be true.

But it wasn’t.

I wonder how it must have felt,

your huge mind,

trapped inside a dysfunctional body.

Your thoughts an itch you just had to scratch,

driving you mad,

desperate and clawing.

You tried to purge them with drink,

but instead you murdered your memories,

caught in your own trap.

And still they plagued you,

swarmed you,

reminding you

that you were in the wrong life,

the wrong body.

But you weren’t wrong.

Not to me.

You were more than just a wheelchair.

You were more than just an email

saying that oh by the way you’d died.

You were my friend.

(Featured image from BarnImages)


© Kate Warren and Rebuild, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kate Warren and Rebuild with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.