Pass the Parcel

Dear Ophelia,

Let's cut straight to the chase:

You do not have to smile for me

And you do not have to be pleasant.

You do not have to be self-conscious,

And you do not have to be nice.

Sometimes friendship is uglier than that.

Sometimes tears are shed, and so is that thick sheet of metal

I've noticed wrapping itself around and around your head.

I can only guess what is on your mind -

I can only make hypotheses of what your world looks like.

It doesn't have to be so private;

I would never judge you and I would never think of you

As too loud or too much

For letting it all out, just once in a while.

Ophelia - and I know this from experience -

There are sometimes things that are meant to be carried together.

I want to help, I want to make life feel lighter -

And I think it'd help you'd let me know how you really are.

No one is ever fully good, and no one is ever fully bright.

No one can hold onto a smile seven days a week, all of the time.

There are seasons of blooming, of breathing with less burden -

And there are times where the ocean becomes too much

So you need something to float on.

I might not be the best one out there,

But I know a lot of shit about masks.

I write to you because when we're together, I can sense the heaviness of the words you hold back.

I can feel that the truth of those neat sentences

You use is non-existent.

I miss you, Ophelia

Because I know we're still on different roads.

Proximity doesn't suffice for closeness,

And falseness will never help either of us grow.

Maybe I will keep giving,

And you will keep taking.

Maybe we'll morph into strangers

Since that seems to be be what happens.

So with sincerity

Love

And a bold promise of friendship,

I hope to someday see more than a hint

Of the truth behind your mask.

~