Friend?

Your high pitched text tone has distanced itself from mine ears.
I've defeaned myself from the same familiar sound that had filled my cheeks with roses and curved my lips like a crescent moon.
Your laugh grows far from that of mine jokes and your Kodak pixel perfection has paused itself in mid-air transfer.
I know that your name is synonymous with poison and toxicity,
yet I can't help but mutter it in my dreams,
doodle it in my lined sheets of contemplation,
 hunger to call it aloud.
Your history deepens my furrowing lines of worry,
Aging me visually for years.
The wrinkles arguing fiercely with my uncontrollable smile.
Yet, I question, can I override your future?
Can I be the football game my dad recorded over the wedding tape?
Can I be what changes pattern, rhythm, status quo.
What changes you, what changes us.
It's odd going from nothing to something to everything and nothing again.
Call it the circle of life,
I call it a pity.
Call it sin,
I call it human nature.
For Christ sakes who longs not to be called beautiful?
To have the daily reminder of what specialities consume you.
The sun reminds each planet everyday of what makes them worth living.
Shining his every present admiration onto their shallow faces.
The sun reminds me of your eyes.
Of your lips.
Of your words.
Of the way you made me feel justified, remarkable, good enough for you and anyone who may cross my path.
It is a true question, however.
If I miss you
Or the idea of you.
Maybe that's just an idea of something itself.
An excuse to pardon my confused emotions.
Because I fell in love with your being, your humor, your body, your creative compassion.
Make no mistake I was not undoubtedly in love with you as complete love can take years.
There are parts of you, still, that made me crazy with infatuation.
I longed for your skin to seep into mine and sing to me gentle tones of sorrow life.
I ache to know your lips in an alternative way.
To be held with appreciation and tenderness,
excused from passive remarks of disdain.
What a thrill it would be to experience something so new.
Your black hole eyes you hide,
fasinate me.
You were that four leaf clover.
That sole clover in a field of dandelion weeds.
You stood out to me, you were.....
different.
I couldn't contain my intrigue in you.
Even now, through our silence and blind interaction,
I cannot help but be utterly aroused in curiosity about you.
Who are you, you kind mystery?
Your intricacy puzzles me more as I continue to understand you.
Love me, friend.
Or get the hell out of my mind.