#7 A Secret to My Friend

I will tell you, my friend

His eyes are the only Christmas lights that deserve to be seen all year long

He thinks too much,

misses his father,

hates to laugh,

and he’s terrible at lying

Because his face never figured out how to do it correctly

I will tell you, my friend

He never gives me roses

nor gifts

But he gives me his world

I will tell you, my friend

If my alarm clock sounded like his voice

my snooze button would collect dust

I will tell you my friend

If he came in a bottle

I would drink him until my vision is blurry

I will tell you, my friend

If he was a book

I would read him page-to-page

hoping to find typos

just so we can both have a few things to work on

Because aren’t we all unfinished?

Don’t we all need a little editing?

Aren’t we all waiting to be proofread by someone?

Aren’t we all praying they will tell us that we make sense?

He don’t always make sense

But his imperfections are the things I love about him the most

*sent to me many years ago from a good friend of mine*