Silent CriesA Poem by Airila
I used to ask myself all the time if it was wrong to fall in love for your best friend
The 2 times this happened I thought it was okay They were both understanding of my situation But now its like... I get it now... Its wrong to fall in love with your best friend Someone you...might not have grown up with But gotten to know and formed such a bond over time Whether 8 months or 4 years... that glue that tied us both together I swore it could never wear out But now...I get it The bond...its slowly fading So what you're both older than I am who cares? There's a point in time where I kept repeating myself "I'm sick and tired of being the little sister" I went after what I wanted like you said didn't I? "My brother always told me if you want something that bad go get it" But what happens when what you want so badly...is the same one who just said that? What's wrong with this in my case is There are some lines you just don't cross This is one of them Pains me to say But this is what has to be said I can't be in love with my best friend I tell myself that so many times No one really understood my feelings for him Much as I tried to explain Its.... the deep connection you get after 5, 10, 25 minutes of TALKING ONLINE How do you do something like that? In my case it was easy I guess I liked him from jump...I told him, he understood n said the feeling's mutual I showed him all the things he was doing wrong Believed in him when everyone said "Beware" I became part of his family I loved him He helped me when I was traumatized Held me while I cried Took every blow when I was angry at the world Made me understand that I'm beautiful in my own way Did everything he could to be...the brother I wish I really had (and I have 3 brothers) I guess... if no one understood then Then maybe...just maybe They can understand now. © 2010 Airila |
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Added on March 29, 2010 Last Updated on March 29, 2010 AuthorAirilaKingston, JamaicaAboutWhat is there really to say about me? I don't believe in confirmation to society's norms. You are who you choose to be. Me? I'm the passionately passionate object of your passion. I am who you think y.. more..Writing
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