- 🎵Part of the soundtrack to one of my favorite movies…ya’ll betta sing (these lyrics can apply to sisters too! “What can a sista do for me?” 🤷♀️) 🎵
We tied our wanting into a bow
And placed it on each other’s laps
Where neither trial
Could wash away our fairy tale.
Did not occur to us that neither plastic bags
And not even the future was strong enough
To hold us.
We were brave.
We were warriors.
We were safe in each others ears
Promises to each others secrets
No one could tell us any different.
Calendars did not lend us its eyes
Did not carve reality into the sticky notes we placed
On our destiny’s
We merely rode on the backs of memories
We created out of air
That smelled of hope
That felt like oxygen to lung
Breath to life
Truth to wisdom
But that bled deception underneath the surface
Of blue lines
On white paper.
That smelled of jasmine
Now shattering glass
Hopelessly pasted together
Encoding our hearts in one anothers chest
We opened up
Stored our futures away
With the ease of speech
Letting them hide behind our eyelids
Trapping falling tears into bottles for fear
Of losing sight of the other
Amidst the blurs it birthed
When doubt crept in.
And we held onto these bottles
Like we babysat the others gaze
Too naïve to understand
That there were no guarantees
That we must not put our hopes into fallen stars
And wishing wells
For now we bleed
Both apology and need
For our broken wings
Both myth and martyr alike
Legend to sacrifice
Do you know what it’s like to feel every twist
Of a dying bow?
To be undone?
Shackled to the worst part of your life story
Prisoners to the memories you created
In each others smiles
Now dangling regret
In the sky.
Echoes off the tops of our lungs with undeniable ease. Friends. Like random hellos, or a courtesy goodbye. Like a sporadic gesture among the land of foreigners, friends too has become a strange language; its value in a strange land as it falls off the edges of our tongues. Words have no meaning for many of us. They race from underneath the spaces of our hearts to descend empty into the air. To land idly among the elements, or on the tops of buildings and of trees. After all, “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” We chant this saying from infancy to adulthood, carrying perception on our shoulders like truth. Meanwhile, words will go on to hurt and heal, afflict and inspire. Friends. Technology says we can find them on Facebook. Fly away with them on Twitter and update relationships instantly. Though I’ve never known a friendship to be built so fast. What kind of lessons do we learn in a world that laughs at murder because words after all have no meaning, so “I hate you” doesn’t mean that I might as well have killed you. Friends. There is no greater person than one who is willing to lay down his life for his friend and yet, the word leaps as it wills off the edges of our tongues. Such a light hearted fantasy. Everyone is a friend today, though not everyone is willing to die for you. Friends. So often do we fill it with air and toss it around among our peers; an enslaved basketball among the bars of netted string is this word. Nothing more than a one syllable title we release into the air to become captive to whatever it wills. But what does it truly mean to be a friend?
“I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend. The one who will memorize the things you say as well as the shape of your lips when you say them. I want to know every curve, every freckle, every shiver of your body. I want to know where to touch you, I want to know how to touch you. I want to know how to convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, I do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world.” ––Unravel Me by Tahereh Mafi