Ever since she was four days old, the best of friends we were. We were always by each other's side, no matter the circumstances.
All throughout preschool and elementary school, I knew that she was my best friend. Sitting in her office playing video games, laughing about other girls who think they're so cool.
In middle school, we had different classes. But the things between us never changed. All was the same, our best friendship was concrete.
But now things are different. She gets so angry, so angry. And she knows that she can say whatever she wants to me and I won't go. She can make me cry and feel terrible but I'll never leave because I don't know how to.
She's all I've ever known.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
