A Friend

I mourned you five times till the metallic taste of our rusted relationship had dissipated, and the blood had crusted.

I mourned you until my gasoline tears had evaporated, into fumes and back into the sky where I had once believed you came from.

You were, but aren't, my favorite glimpse in time; my favorite person; my favorite memory. You knew the intricacies of my intuition and the glimmer in my gaze, but you never knew my heart.

You never understood the way I cared, and the way it hurt to love you.

You never understood my excitement, my devastation, and my intention.

And you never will.