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Eight Different Directions
They are the only ones who know me. I am the only ones who them. Eight different directions with paths and speed bumps like mine. Eight who are meant to be friends forever. Eight unique personalities raised by different moms. From our do’s to our don'ts, we accept them, but never are quick to judge.
Our unity is secret. We stick together like peanut butter and jelly. We grow up and move on and grab each other by the feet and pray we make it out alive and never leave any back. This is how we wait.
Let one forget her reason for waiting, the rest all droop like sad puppies, each with their arms around the other. Wait, wait, wait we say when we’re gone. We stay.
When I am too sad and too lonely to keep waiting, when I am a lost girl against so many odds, then it is I look at my directions. When there is nothing left to look at on this world. Eight who grew tight nit. Eight who reach and do not forget to reach. Eight whose only reason is to wait and wait.
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