A Letter to an Old Friend

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Spoken Word Poetry

“I don’t need you”
was what you told me that day,
and now I can confidently say
that I don’t need you either

for the confrontations
that choked the flow
of oxygen and thoughts
to and from my core
to and from my mouth
would leave my throat
knotted into a noose
never ending into nights
after reticence

restive, my body would
invariably surge with violent
and spiraling suspension
my head and feet off the ground
thrashing, flailing to come down
while being bombarded by the racing
“should haves” and “what ifs”

I shouldn’t need you,
and I don’t,
but I want you

though there were five nights a year
that I’d be paralyzed in fear
we’d always come back, full circle,
three hundred sixty days stronger
with some change

it may seem strange or
possibly deranged but
in spite of or maybe
because of the pain
that I want to say
that I want you

for what’s friendship
without a little conflict

to state our genuine state
of mind, of self, no filter
of course it’s because
of how close we were
that some friction
would occur

- or a lot

but I never forgot
the cold conversations
smiling,
in drive-through-wait-
dine-in-outdoors at 3am or
the car conversations
crying,
set to the cadence of
Freddie n’ Queen or
the couch conversations
laughing,
while liberated with
questionable substances

in fact,
I cherish them

so cheers
for all these years
messily compressed into
this reflection
it is now my intention
for reconnection
and not to start all over

I’ve been able to live,
and I really don’t need you,
but, hopefully conveyed in
my hokey-dorky way,
I want you

Other Works


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