Your Unknown Best Friends

March 17, 2012
I know you but you don’t know me. I wouldn't expect you to know a nothing like me. What with you being a heartless organism and all. I see you every day. You’re looking more beautiful in a scary way every time I see you. Hundreds of people I knew, I grew up with, vanished by your hand. They were found days latter stuffed in a suffocating trash bin. Strangled, de-cap-itated, broken, dead. Every single one of them. You don’t even care about all the destruction you are doing to my life. You tell me everything there is to know about in your mind, and I listen. Who you hate, who you love, endless regrets and more. I remember every single word. I feel your pain strangling me when there is heart break. You can only tell your best friend, because you know they will understand. You don’t have to call or text ‘cause I’m always there for you. But you’re never there for me at all. I grow older with wisdom and gossip and I shrink by the inch. You meet new friends and I go from number one to number two. My replacement, a new best friend. It makes me wonder about our life together, and I’m only just now realizing that you never cared. All you did to ruin everything was reach into my dark world which was once thought to be safe. You picked your victim at random because we’re not pretty enough for you. The pretty ones last longer. They make stupid blond jokes about me and my family while they throw fancy glitter everywhere. Just as quickly as it was wrenched apart, my world was meshed with a loud zip. Darkness exploded in the room. The moon looked like a hole in the fabric of the stars. A scream emitted from the captive. Metal on flesh is almost too horrible, too gruesome to hear. Especially when I know just slivers of golden brown skin will be all that will remain of my screaming mother. My entire world was torn apart because of you and you are yet to notice. I was your best friend, but you demoted me to number two. I knew you better than you probably knew yourself. I see you every day and I wouldn’t expect for you to think of me fondly, let alone think of me at all. It’s simply because you don’t care. Do you even have a heart? If you do, where is it? I am your pencil. What monster are you?





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback