She probably could count my scars faster then I ever could

reminding me that although I said never again

it happened more than twice.

I keep her scars in a jar,some still bleeding,

 I put them up were no one could find them

or attempt to use them aganist her.

I tell her that  I will only open it

in times when she desperately needs

to know how strong she is.

She has listened to more words

than I could ever write down

and she seems to have the ability

to recall every boy I ever mentioned,

every song I ever tried to sing,

and every flower I never received.

Stored somewhere between “important”

and “even more important”

I stapled together all her wishes and dreams

carefully,

 to keep the orginal documents in mint condition.

I locked them away in a place

I can’t remember

but when she asks herself “why”

I am sure to reply with more answers then she asked fo,r

bringing to light all the thoughts

she ever spoke to me in the night.

We are friends

but more like sisters

connected by something more adhesive then blood,

this bond we have as women

makes more than our periods sync

Our minds, moving at the same speed

overlap and create a space

that only can be described as best friends

Friendship at its best