picking up the pieces.

How long have you been here?
How long have you been watching me?

Are you here to protect me?
Or to become me?

You appear to others constantly.
Its obvious.


But no ones looking.

No one can see the shift in our weight - from the left to the right.
Or the way your hands move along the keyboard.
The way we hold our pens.

There is a difference between you and I.

The distinctions are subtle.
'Insignificant'.
Unseen by most.
Contemplated by some.

But there nonetheless.


Truly, you are one of my very best friends. We've been close for as long as I can remember.
I can recall some moments in elementary school - crying because my parents left - but eventually smiling in comfort knowing that you were there.
And you remember some things too, don't you?

Things you dare not tell me?
There are months in school where I don't remember ever being there.
Words and actions that others have told me I once did.
Bad words.
Mean words.
Lies.


But that was you, wasn't it?