tried to reach for his teeth

{a letter to my past best friend} -,

the beauty in a present only ever becomes significant when time has passed. Is when I can safely forage for love without the risk of being betrayed by what is to come. I pick my cherries.      I create what is meant to perform, fruit dripped all over, tinted to look beautiful. 

there is no coherent end to us. memories of the last time we spoke fading with the present to make one mudded solid

to love a boy is sincere, for you don't know it until it is what you adore in your dearest favorite dreams. driven by the past I long for what I now percieve to be perfect. Loving you was pure but far from kind, I and you were a mess, unfiltered of our nearest ones actions. Unaware of passing hurt and anger. 

To love is to change. It is easy to confess now for we have changed enough.

No pain inflicts me as I awake from what could have been us grown up. There is no sorrow.      I yearn to love you once more but it wont happen. Much more important is to preserve in my mind the faultless picture i kept of you