Living On | Teen Ink

Living On

June 27, 2011
By RCowley200 SILVER, Huntersville, North Carolina
RCowley200 SILVER, Huntersville, North Carolina
6 articles 0 photos 1 comment

It seems impossible to forget her, that girl.
The pretty olive-skinned one with the glossy black curls.
Even at ten, she was the girl, the one to set trends,
So you can guess my surprise when we became friends.
It was me, the quiet girl that was always alone,
And she, the preppy popular girl that always shone.

It seems absurd to forget her, that girl, my best friend.
The one I never once fought with while we were together.
The one with the beautiful smile, light as a feather.
She once swore to me that our friendship would never end,
And I let myself believe the thought, if just for a while,
Because she flashed me that irresistible smile.

I’ve realized it’s impossible to forget my time
With her, that girl, my one and only partner-in-crime.
The one with problems at home, the one with parents that fought,
Though you would never know, because she let on to naught.
She would simply gaze at me with those eyes etched from gold
And say, with shame in her voice, it couldn’t be controlled.

I know it’s useless to try to forget the joy, the fun,
Just as it is useless to try to forget the sun.
I’ll never forget the times we laughed, the moments we shared,
The day she declared to the world that we no longer cared.
The world was our oyster, and we were its precious pearl.
It seemed unreal but it was true, me with her, that girl.

Six years passed before I was torn away from her, that girl.
Before she left she gave me a necklace with a white pearl.
The necklace matched her black one perfectly, and she thanked me,
The reason unclear. But I hugged her, my heart full with glee.
She seemed unable to stop thanking me that afternoon,
On that one horrible day in the middle of June.

As she lay in that bed of pristine white satin
The sun poured in through the window and right onto her skin
To everyone gathered that day, she was perfect
But it was her, that girl, so this was what you would expect
My necklace went cold as I bent over and straightened hers
Perhaps, perhaps it knew it would never again see hers

I still visit her often, even three years later,
Because I know it’s impossible to move on from her.
When I visit, even though I know it will make me cry,
I search for her in the sky and say thank you and goodbye.
I want her to live on, so I’ll put her into writing.
I’ll start; it seems impossible to forget her, that girl.



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