She said that I was beautiful; she said that we would be best friends to the end.
As long as I did everything she said I would always be under her protection.
I was scared to be alone; my mother’s womb was never really my home, so I found shelter in her.
Before her, I was just the lost world’s baby girl, too afraid to be alone,
finding solace in whoever and whatever, just to not wanting to be trapped with myself.
I was dying to live right so someone will love me, then she came to me.
She made the fear that resided in my belly, leave me, she evicted him from me,
I was finally free to be the little girl that I desperately needed to be, wanted to be.
She started asking me for favors, started by asking politely to take her everywhere with me,
I didn’t care because anywhere she was or wanted to be I was already praying to already be there.
Then we started to have intimate slumber parties, where she would squeeze me so tightly
that my breathing was be exonerated from my body and I didn’t mind, she needed me.
I mean that was more than I could say about anybody.
I had her name tattooed on my tongue so all I could only speak her language.
I would cast spells to shield her from posers who tried to use her name in vain.
She asked me to touch her; it was never a question of if I was going to take her,
but how many position I can take her.
I did my best to try to hold the heat that she burned for me while trying to contain my fire too.
She asked me to taste her and I told her no.
I wanted to inhale her, bringing me to her skies where her clouds took me past 9, she staying pregnant,
trying to hold me together, anticipation mounting for my arrival.
Our breathing was synchronized and she and I became the perfect pattern,
patterns that matched beyond our spiritual treads, we were perfect.
Until I gained new friends, then I abandoned her, because it was not popular to be with her,
I was ashamed of her, I even started teasing her.
I was a part of the in crowd now; I could never be seen with the likes of her.
At lunch I ignored her, at worked I tortured her;
even at home I lost her, never holding her, never talking to her.
She became boring.
I thought I was doing great until she cornered me, choking me,
screaming at me “Don’t you remember me!
I was the one that was there for you when there was no body.
I was the one that held you at night, was your shoulder to cry on, I never left you.
I use to let you write inside me,
constantly in my womb, misspelling your misgiving and hiding them in me, I am your abandoned diary.
I was the one that you considered necessary... it was me poetry.”
Then I realized that all she wanted from me is my pen and loyalty and I failed her,
I put everything before her and I fell out of love with her.
She put me down and walked taking her final bow and my twisted stage.
I began to remember her strength and tenacity.
I could still hardly breathe but I remembered how she still was my respiratory.
She was the best to me and even though she hated me,
she still needed me and slowly I realized that I needed her too.
I vowed that weather I wrapped my tongue and lips around BIC’s or felt tips,
I will always write to her, I will always do right by her.
She is the best thing that will forever happen to me.
So my lady poetry, I am sorry and I hope that you can accept this as my Formal Apology.