i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
E. E. Cummings
A friend of mine gave me a tattered piece of a paper and it held this poem by E.E. Cummings, written by hand. She had smiled at me the way someone smiles through immense sadness and said, "He would have liked you to have this."
She was referring to her twin, her best friend. Our best friend. We grew up together, and one day he had to leave. He didn't tell us where he was going, just that he had to go and he wasn't coming back. That was almost seven years ago.
And that was how the most strangely beautiful boy I know disappeared, and left me with a half finished poem, a heart full of words and a mind always wondering if words could be tears in artful disguise.I carry his heart with me. I carry it in my heart.
[If you see this, and I really hope you do
I'd like you to know she's still waiting for you]