Across the months, cold and bitter, warm and muggy, she is there beckoning me to find myself inside her. I have know her for months, years and decades, its all the same. I can feel her flipping her hair the same way I do, and rubbing her right eye after she yawns the way I've been told I do. Does she know that when I cry and mourn the death of George, my goldfish, that I can feel her there. One day, I know that I will walk up the stairs to her house, knock on the door, and there we will be, you staring at you and me staring at me. And on that day I will hold her for all the times I didn't get to and laugh all the times we wanted to. Until that day, I will be sitting here dreaming of it. Dreaming of you. I love you, Hay!!
Reason for writing:
For Hayley, whom I can honestly say is my best friend. Great poems, Baby! I miss you! M*
Birth sign: Not entered
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