Have I Ever Really Known You?
Of late, I have wondered.
Wondered? You asked.
Wonder if I ever have known you.
Yes you, the real you.
I wonder if those times we talked, or those times we laughed were moments that truly had some type of meaning to you, as it did for me.
You have to be joking!
Then, I picked up the lace kerchief that I used to dry your tears when hurt and pain came your way.
You still have that ugly thing?
I tried to clean out the stains but they remained, and so I fold it up and keep it in a pocket in case you should ever need it.
You should have thrown that away in the trash.
No one wants to use that dirty filthy thing!
There was a time in my life when I needed a special lace kerchief, but there was none.
What are you talking about? You have everything!
I enjoyed the delight in your eyes with each treasure that I gave to you.
That’s what you do when you’re rich.
I tried to send letters of care, of encouragement, and when you were sad, a letter to let you know that I would be there for you no matter what.
Yeah, I got all of those letters. You have so much time to write. I just don’t have the time.
Now, I am sitting here wondering and thinking if I ever really knew you, the true you?
I needed and craved your friendship but you were not there.
You were not there to dry my tears when I was scared and needed you most.
Tokens of friendship that I presented to you were taken with greed and expectation.
As I am aging, perhaps dying a little each day, will you be there?
Can I depend on you to dry my tears with your lace kerchief?
Throughout life, friendship is a queer trait, because we will never truly know if it ever really existed.
On my deathbed, I will know my friends,
They will be the ghosts in the room holding my hand.
September 27, 2006 by Erica M. Kadrmas