the familiarity of friendship

I’ve known her so long, that it’s become too easy
to shatter myself into vulnerable pieces on her kitchen floor
and lay bare the darkest shadows of my soul without judgment
because I know the darkness she cannot show the sunshine world
and I don’t care that her scars almost match mine
she’s more beautiful for all her dysfunctions

And when the trust-ties crumble, she’s the only one left
that didn’t trade their loyalty for sex and a packet of cigarettes
on the boat of friendship that always seems to be sinking
somewhere with someone that used to matter
once upon a time…

For all my words I can’t define her, the way that I love
and hate the beauty and the flaws and the promise
to myself that I need friends a little more reliable
than she who pops around in an eight month cycle

While I don’t want to let her go, my rock of uncertainty
perpetually unhinged under the weight of misfiring chemistry
in her waif frame and chemically damaged brain

‘Cause I’ve known her so long, that it’s now too easy
to shatter myself into vulnerable pieces on her kitchen floor

Where we can glue ourselves back together with mirrors and familiarity

© Indie Adams 2012