My Imaginary Friend
Poetry By, J. M. Lilin
My imaginary friend is my only friend.
He always waits for me on top of the mountain, pines surrounding his small form.
Dandelions lead me there where the white butterflies roam.
He waits for me and every time I find myself there, he has a smile set out just for me.
He will lay out his words and feelings clear and fine as the breeze.
He can express his care through the gentle cluster of air that tucks back my hair.
Together we will sink into the earth and our hands will link through the grass.
We look at the clouds and laugh until it hurts.
When the stars come out, it is time to be serious and we speak of our fears.
He listens carefully and I take all that he tells me and tuck it away.
Inside my chest is a treasure chest with my heart of memories and emotions.
I keep them locked except for when I am with him because he is only imaginary.
Everything he told me has been locked away with the rest of my treasures.
He won’t tell anyone the thoughts that roam my web because he cannot.
Once I tell, there is no taking it back, but he is only imaginary, so why does it matter?
He always knows what I need to say.
He always knows what I wish I was.
He always knows who I am because I made him up.
His name is fake and so is his face.
I wish he was real, but I only see him when I fall asleep.
My imaginary friend is my only friend and he always waits for me.
You have one heart to give and I think I know where mine has gone.
If you are wondering where I’ve gone, I have gone to see my friend in the trees.
If you want to know who I was, just look up at the blanket of stars that I hid beneath when I was honest.
If you want to get to know me, you will have to be imaginary.
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