my mother has your name embroidered on my bedroom door 
sketched on the walls of my mind 
woven into my entity 
she often exhales you, 
“are you two still good friends?”
are we?

everyday, our bodies move further apart 
if i could fold myself in your nightstand drawer, 
perhaps the universe would become softer
bearable 
do you remember?

we had promised to stay in touch
and i welcomed you into my childhood home 
your voice still echoes in this innocence 
i still have your number, the one you hid from your family, the one which separates you from the sorrows of yesterday. 
  
but you had encountered this boy 
and i had met this other boy 
so, we rarely have time to talk 
I wish I believed you when you told me you were my home. 

do you still recall the lines on my face?
i observe parts of you in every woman i meet 
i can’t help but fall in love with every woman who recounts your features
you'll always be my first, 
my first love, first desire 

you ask me about this boy
and i tell you that it’s not serious 
“does he treat you well?”
“he knows my name. that’s good enough.”

you tell me to care for myself 
say that i deserve better than him 
(you're better than him) 
but I don’t deserve you

Remember July of 2017? When we scoured the streets of Beirut, enjoying the city as it quiets down. You had told me that you'd wish to meet with me alone; you had something on your mind. Do you remember that night? When we shared a moment of relief, our words intertwined, "I have feelings for you." You had planned to leave the other day, you felt that this place was too narrow for you. I don't think Beirut ever appreciated your essence. You had wanted to move away from the family who made you feel so unloved, from a society which pushed you to the margins. You required a bigger place to soar, your vice needs someone to hold. I will never forget that night. It was the first time a person allowed me into their inner thoughts and fears. You trusted me, and I'm forever grateful for that. 
 
she’s the kind of girl you read about in history books 
a voice so brash that it shakes the entire planet 
the world kneels at her eyes  
no one compares to her. 

you know, i consult our messages every night
i relive the day you told me you loved me 
i wish I knew what falling in love with a woman felt like at the time 
i would’ve written poems about you
i would’ve painted you on every corner
i wish I believed you when you told me you were my home. 

_ _ _ _, you inhibit a special place in my heart. I know we haven't talked in a while, and I'm sorry for not believing your love. I was scared, what else can I say? Would you forgive my foolish heart? You'll always be in my prayers, in every story I share, every memory. 
I wish I could name this poem after you, 
your dear friend, _ _ _ _.