Now as an adult, I reflected on my love and connection with Helga. A childish love that still remains to this day and I'm sure it'll never go away. But I see her character so differently, with so much more appreciation than what I had before. I hope you enjoy my poem Reminiscent.
I lack a little pink book to express my emotions,
my poems and stories scattered in journals and
diaries of moons and stars.
Not tucked away in closets, but pressed close to the heart.
The mask of bully no longer intact.
Years removed from those days when
my heart was easily hid.
Now open with thick swallows and shaky smiles.
No pink ribbon of significant value;
no marker of identity.
Just grappling for the frayed edges
of a neatly tied bow.
As easy as it was to imitate,
now I face the world without guide.
Aging happened faster,
love came rapid and sudden, not under a blue umbrella.
The rules of the elementary jungle
change once you pass
through those doors to adolescent Hell.
I was lost in this strange new life.
I'm not graced in pink,
not crowned in gold,
nor see through lapis eyes.
Yet my proud stance would curl her lips.
Purple was my pink,
my crown a burnt bark,
and chestnut the doors to my soul.
Yet there we two were, joint at the hip.
Ghost that loomed over us,
unrequited loves and the awareness
of what those around you think
and the weight one carries on young shoulders.
But now as it stands,
here we are once again.
Found years later,
the twist of my gut still there.
The icy ache
as I watch
the awareness and a fear
so terribly familiar to me.
Years later,
two lost little girls
desperate for someone to chase away the darkness
and save them from the torrents of water.
But it's time for me to realize
that the lessons of your life were fictional
and mine
terribly real.
The icy tendrils make way
for small fond smiles
and tears
for when dreams come true.
True love cannot be stopped,
destiny never diverted.
My love lost,
but hers still real.
Together,
a pale hand in tan,
two old friends
wait for the warmth of love.