I'm a blank canvas, a person remade. I'm a circle that has no beginning nor end. I'm fear and anger and elation and hope all at once. I'm a person with no purpose other than searching.


It was that time with your best friend,

when you had a horrible fight and you thought you would never make up.

For a while, you cried, or acted tough, or even ignored them.

Eventually, someone else noticed how strange you were acting.

Perhaps it was another friend,

or a brother or sister,

or a parent or even just a stranger who saw you being sad.

They asked you what was wrong, what was so wrong,

and you pushed them away,

because no one deserves to know about your life,

no one deserves to intrude on that sacred friendship,

the sacred friendship - that was no longer.

Maybe it only took a moment,

maybe days,

maybe weeks or months or years,

but eventually you gave in to yourself,

something you had been afraid of.

You were angry at this person for intruding,

but elated that they did.

You were suddenly blessed with a hope that maybe,

just maybe,

you could save this friendship.

You poured out your heart to this person,

you told it all, you explained everything,

how you felt, how you still feel,

you told them exactly what happened,

because if even one detail was wrong

it might never get fixed.

Once you were finished,

you knew what to do.

You had to wipe the slate clean.

You went back to your friend,

and one glance,

one look told both of you that it was alright now.

You both knew there was a new canvas to be painted,

a blank starting place,

you both knew you were now people remade -

but not really, were you?

You had gone in a circle,

from friends to enemies and friends again.

You realized that this whole fiasco had no start or ending,

it was just a circle.

The next time you had a fight

with anyone,

you went searching for that person

who had helped you so much.

This person might have shown up again,

or might not,

but their one lesson always remained with you,

that no matter what or why or when or where or how you are,

Talk to me!

3 curiosities:

Mystery said...

This is one of my favorite poems and given the nature of your posts, I thought you would appreciate it.

He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him in.

-"Outwitted" Edwin Markham

Schrödinger said...

That's simply beautiful, it is, thank you.

Maurice said...

My, you ARE a strange one.

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