by kimberley veart
We used to fit so well, it was all so comfortable.
We wore each other out, I suppose. Mended and patched until we matched.
You were like the trusty sweater I could reach for when the days turned cold. I knew (well, I thought) you would always protect me and brighten me up as the world grew grey.
Slowly from familiar to strange, you have changed; morphing from centre-stage colour into the monotone background.
From a comforting presence, into an unknown shadow of a personality behind a well-known face. The exterior still lulls me, a false sense of security at the sight.
A sigh.
Memories still light and play at the corners of your eyes, your mouth as you attempt a smile. We tried to pretend for a while. It's not the same.
It won't be again.
The threads between us have untangled and unravelled. I tried to knit it back together, but I've never been good at that, I always drop a stitch. Perhaps, it is time to cut us free.
Because, now you are just somebody that I used to know.
So hold on to the pictures, but hide those albums away, somewhere deep in the bottom of the drawer.
Bring them out on some rainy day and think of me, and I'll join you from afar.
With a new sweater to keep me warm.
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the way we were by kimberley veart
the boab tree by charlotte guest
