Our hearts must have been knitted together in the womb
and ripped apart at birth, but
whoever did so failed to remove every piece of yarn
because we ended up finding each other again.
You are the only one who can see past me
and I am the only one who can tell
if you're having a normal silence
or a sad silence.
Oh, I can tell.
We can read each other's souls
as easily as my father reads the Sunday morning newspaper
and we can read the pain between the lines, too
in fact, we trace it with our fingers
and feel the pain like it's our own.
Oh, we do.
We are opposite in physique and personality
but twins in values and passions, this
you wrote to me in a letter once,
and I haven't forgotten it.
Oh, I haven't.
We've wondered why we're so alike in a
completely opposite way, but now I know.
I know that the yarn is still hanging
and we are still being stitched back together
because one day, we'll end up right back from where we came from.
And we'll be doing the exact same thing.
Oh, we will.
A poem for my best friend. You know who you are.