Creative

I knew her.

At night, I spend a majority of my time thinking and wondering. But I do spend some time talking to my friends online and usually, it’s around this time when the feels, emotions, and truth comes out, alive and well. Tonight, a friend told me the pain he still feels when he thinks about his first real love. I wrote a poem based on his story (and he gave me permission to share it). I’m sure some of you can relate to it.

I knew her.

I knew her.

I just didn’t know when or where.

Was it when we were kids? —playing outside together?

Or did I mistook her for someone else?

I can’t remember her face, but I know this feeling.

A feeling of familiarity.

 

I knew her.

I met her again.

She was my next door neighbor.

I saw her walking around every day.

I watched her.

Or did I dream it?

 

I knew her.

We went to grade school together.

She sat next to me, but I ignored her.

She asked to switch seats, and so she left.

I realized, though, she was the girl from before.

Like a dream, she fleeted away.

 

I knew her.

We were friends in high school.

I told her, “I liked her.”

She said, “I don’t date friends.”

We weren’t the same ever again.

She became a dream. My dream girl.

© LynLynSays 2017

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