My Dear Friend
A sign taped to your back, getting picked last for everything A prank made to get laughs, a shove in the hallways What seems so small leaves the biggest scars building up over time thick ropes wrapping around us studded with broken glass all over our skin ripping and tearing into our already broken and bloody flesh till we are nothing but a cancerous mass of scar tissue I see it.
Remember when I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You kept us both afloat when we were in trouble. You are now trying to float by on a bottle of painkillers because even though you know what you feel isn’t physical pain you are desperate enough to hope it works Stop hiding. What, you don’t think you can? You’re wrong.
The one thousand boulders that rest on your back, weighing you down, are not solid like you thought. They are papier-mache over wires. Stop hiding.
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim, but you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You laughed and tried to teach me how to do it. Stop hiding. Give a show and tell of your scars. Show everyone where they are Tell them how you got them. Be proud. Show the pain that has filled thousands of bottles and that you tucked away in the back of your closet behind the shoebox of letters from your father that he wrote every week he was away,(bubbling with pride for you, his only child) till he burst into a million pieces this fall.
But God needed more than just your father. Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You held me and kept telling me to paddle my feet, they were the engines, You told me to windmill my arms in the water, they were my steering wheel.
He demanded your best friend, the one who held you as you cried about your dad, the one who made you laugh when you’d rather scream the one who pulled you into life when you wanted to burrow in your covers of sorrow. That best friend, he was hit by his father showing up with eggplant splotches on the outside and desperation and hopelessness on the inside Yet somehow, he wore a smile all the time. Saying that he got into a fight with some kid that needed to know who was boss. One night, he stood up to his old man “I dare you. Shoot me.Shoot me!” The old man said, but he couldn’t.
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You were so patient as you helped me.
That night he put a bullet through his skull blood staining the blades of grass and the siding of his house because he couldn’t stand the pain and sorrow and he couldn’t kill his own father because your friend was that good inside Now it’s you who can’t stand the pain, that empty feeling, can’t stand the fake everything Your own personal set of Hell’s trials You take pain pills like a ritual you can’t break I know it’s hard it’s goddamn hard to gather the pieces of you and try to solve the puzzle of yourself so that something makes sense. Do something!
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? I know it’s hard because I almost popped one too many pills killing the pain but killing myself as well. Couldn’t stand the pressure of being perfect. Couldn’t stand needing to be the perfect little doll my mother never had as a child. Promise me something. Try everyday to accept the pain, to take one less pill try to learn to live with the pain. Please, tell me.What can I do?And what will you?
Remember that time I fell out of the boat, into the water, and you dove in after me because you knew i couldn’t swim...Please don’t sink on me now.
Remember when I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You kept us both afloat when we were in trouble. You are now trying to float by on a bottle of painkillers because even though you know what you feel isn’t physical pain you are desperate enough to hope it works Stop hiding. What, you don’t think you can? You’re wrong.
The one thousand boulders that rest on your back, weighing you down, are not solid like you thought. They are papier-mache over wires. Stop hiding.
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim, but you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You laughed and tried to teach me how to do it. Stop hiding. Give a show and tell of your scars. Show everyone where they are Tell them how you got them. Be proud. Show the pain that has filled thousands of bottles and that you tucked away in the back of your closet behind the shoebox of letters from your father that he wrote every week he was away,(bubbling with pride for you, his only child) till he burst into a million pieces this fall.
But God needed more than just your father. Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You held me and kept telling me to paddle my feet, they were the engines, You told me to windmill my arms in the water, they were my steering wheel.
He demanded your best friend, the one who held you as you cried about your dad, the one who made you laugh when you’d rather scream the one who pulled you into life when you wanted to burrow in your covers of sorrow. That best friend, he was hit by his father showing up with eggplant splotches on the outside and desperation and hopelessness on the inside Yet somehow, he wore a smile all the time. Saying that he got into a fight with some kid that needed to know who was boss. One night, he stood up to his old man “I dare you. Shoot me.Shoot me!” The old man said, but he couldn’t.
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? You were so patient as you helped me.
That night he put a bullet through his skull blood staining the blades of grass and the siding of his house because he couldn’t stand the pain and sorrow and he couldn’t kill his own father because your friend was that good inside Now it’s you who can’t stand the pain, that empty feeling, can’t stand the fake everything Your own personal set of Hell’s trials You take pain pills like a ritual you can’t break I know it’s hard it’s goddamn hard to gather the pieces of you and try to solve the puzzle of yourself so that something makes sense. Do something!
Remember that time I fell off the boat and into the water and you dove in after me because you knew I couldn’t swim But you didn’t know how to swim either and so you just tried to keep our heads above water and suddenly you were swimming? I know it’s hard because I almost popped one too many pills killing the pain but killing myself as well. Couldn’t stand the pressure of being perfect. Couldn’t stand needing to be the perfect little doll my mother never had as a child. Promise me something. Try everyday to accept the pain, to take one less pill try to learn to live with the pain. Please, tell me.What can I do?And what will you?
Remember that time I fell out of the boat, into the water, and you dove in after me because you knew i couldn’t swim...Please don’t sink on me now.