I don’t know how it feels like to have a best friend.

It’s the people who totally know nothing about me that always have an opinion about me.

I’m completely dishonest with myself because I don’t know how it feels to say everything to totally one person for the rest of my life,

The snippets I share with you may not completely relate to what I tell my church friend,

The details of my love life may not come out in the tales of a girl in love the same way I tell my old school friend who has no idea I have that female side of me.

So I suppose I really don’t have that figured yet, who is my best friend?

I am jealous of people who don’t even think twice to answer that simple question, it has always been one person, and maybe they have a new one. They even afford calling someone an ex best friend, I can’t. 

There has never been a current one, I don’t even have a forever one. I have never entitled any human being completely responsible for everything I love and hate,

The truth is there’s no truth on me being anyone’s best friend too. They’d expect me to stay the same and the truth insists my truth keeps changing too.

According to my style of doing things, I keep it in store, chew it down until all corners are much clear now. I tell you what I feel you can add unto, make me see in a totally different side of view.

It’s like it comes to me in dark and complicated patterns to me, it doesn’t come so easily to me to tell the closest individual what my next move is.

I gotta struggle to connect it the right way for another human being’s language to understand,

It’s a code to me, I need to interpret it and get someone to read it to me in the words I actually am scared to admit to anyone.

So, I don’t know what it feels like to have a person connect to that kind of reality with me.

But I want it, I want for somebody to love me in silence, I love it when someone understands a code written on my forehead that shit ain’t straight with me.

For you to be my insurance policy, for me to untangle my crazy locks of ideas and not be afraid you might not like them. 

Accidents, fires and bruises always be standby from what my thoughts contain and back me up.

Stay with me when I experience things I don’t know how to say in words or write about,

Incarcerate yourself with my whole soul until we get the best version of these stories….

Be my best friend in that type of way.

Lift my head up, see my spirit through that…

See my brokenness, enthusiasm, panic and stress, breathe in and out with me.

Say words I don’t understand, treat my wounds and destroy what you think I don’t deserve,

Probably that will stimulate me to open up.

I may start from there to draw you a picture of the status quo of my mind,

It may be a reason I want to win an argument with the information I have been feeding myself,

Cause I’m tired of self-imprisonment,

 A soul like yours was the reason I am writing this, it’s a start to my hope to finding my best friend,

You do quite a thing or two that make me reconsider, ever finding an answer to,

Who is my best friend?