I wish I could say that you were only my 3 AM thoughts,
but you’re more than tears on a pillow
when I’ve listened to too many sad songs.
You are what crosses my mind when I’m sat at the kitchen table,
the dish in front me reminding me of the few meals I watched you eat
looking back to the countless time I held back
what you really needed to hear
biting my tongue for the sake of our friendship.
I wanted to be your spark
in place of the lighter you held up to your cigarette
but somehow I got stuck.
Somehow we got stuck.
The crave for change became overbearing
because every time I gained some courage
I was pushed back.
I pushed myself back.
I knew the change could not come from only me
and my effort continued to go unnoticed.
You were like soft ocean waves
substantially subsiding before ever reaching the shore.
I learned a lot once I gave myself the chance,
I learned to back away from what held me stagnant.
And i have to come to understand
you are wasted tears on a pillow,
one amongst the other to soon be forgotton.
Somehow I got stuck.
But in more ways than one,
I am now free.