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Deductions of the Heart

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(A Book of Poems) And even then, when your body fails you, when you need to leave the world and touch the sky. I'll be there to hold your heart to mine, and I'll be there to kiss you goodbye.

Romance / Drama
Jade ⭐️
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Fragmental Affliction


We met over a cup of steaming, hot breakfast tea.
Course, you were just a baby, and I was just three.

The tea belonging to my mother, while I sat near, receiving glares, naturally, from your older brother.

You were in a set of arms, a baby with a voice, a shriek so loud it could break glass. A pale, curly-haired, little menace of pride, confidence, curiosity, and sass.

It seemed as though you were the North Pole while I was the south. Mine is just a face, yours a beautiful array, of eyes, teeth, and mouth.

Your irises shine a deep grey-blue, while mine simply sit, in a dull hazel shade. Your lips shine plush and pink, while mine remain peach and then seem to fade.

Your skin is nearly bleached white, a blanch so translucent it almost shouldn't be right.

But it is you see, it is just another simple detail of your vulnerability and make-up. A state of bliss as you stared at me from under the rim of your mother's teacup.

I knew at that moment what we would turn out to be.
A feeling of friendship, wild and free.

I knew at that moment that I wouldn't regret meeting you - no, never. Because I knew at that moment, we were to be best friends forever.


His was a curious face, so simple and solid.
Nothing, horrid, or shocking, and definitely not squalid.

It was tan and smooth, subtle bemusement in every feature.
He was a strange and curious, yet average little creature.

He stared with admiration of everything I was and seemed spread out to be. I wondered silently to myself, "What does he possibly see in me?"


It's funny how I love that you're so much smarter than me.
It's funny that you complain about an A and I'm stuck with a B.

It's funny that my skills compared to yours are so terribly poor.
Your acing long division, and I'm stuck on multiples of four.

You were so very clever you skipped a few grades, and now we have all the same classes. You and I, best friends since the beginning, are so different from the surrounding masses.

We sit together, alone and distanced, on the playground benches, discussing our futures and our will to jump the fences.

It's so amazing to me, how you stare at people and read them like kindergarten books. I stare at people too long trying to see the same as you but simply receive strange looks.

A boy comes over, fierce and strong. He calls you a name and says that you were born wrong.

You only look away, tired of the same old routine. So I take action, rolling up my sleeves to appear lean, and mean.

I like it like this though; I like protecting you when your vulnerable side is on display. I hope to always be there for you, whether you need me or not, because for you I'll never go, I'll always stay.


He's still here, right beside me where ever I venture. He's like a guardian angel; the bullies my thirst, and he my thirst quencher.

I thought he'd have left, a long time ago, as soon as I could finally speak. But no, he's still around, and it's causing my knees to fall weak.

To me, he's no longer just my friend.
He's something more – have I gone round the bend?


You're so different now, though I love you all the same.
You've pierced your ears, died the top of your hair a blue flame.

You're still the genius, scrawny kid I've known since I was three.
The same little boy, so lanky and clever that I met over tea.

Look at you now, in your black hoodie and jeans.
You take nothing from nobody, screw the other vile teens.

You're such a pariah and that's what's so dear to my heart.
The silence of your genius was always my favorite part.

You still ace your classes, pass with flying colors. I'm simply sat there laughing, stating "you're one of the scholars."

You're delving deeper into yourself, reading far more books, spending far more time alone. But that's okay with me, for you're an independent and I've always known.

I find you fascinating even when we don't see one another.
I don't mind your studies, so long as we don't loose each other.


He's found someone who can steal his heart and hold his hand.
She's beautiful, young, and in high demand.

Did I do something wrong? Surely not.
Does he know how impossibly hard I've fought?

I scored high in classes and grade levels to be with him.
I stepped out of my comfort zone, went out on a limb.

Does he really not see why I've been keeping my distance? Because my love for him is eternal, and he's not aware of its existence.


He's not been around and now I can't find him anywhere. Since I met her, we haven't talked, giving our friendship quite a scare.

I've seen him in the halls talking with two other boys.
They don't seem his crowd; they make far too much noise.

Yet I see him one minute, and then he's gone the next.
Maybe I should send him just one more text.


My phone has alerted me far too many times already.
Just leave me in peace – my high just fell steady.

It's refreshing and vibrant, allowing me to simply forget.
Though it makes me shake, tremble and sweat.

He doesn't love you, he loves someone else, my mind tells me.
God, how could I even let myself fall to this low of a plea?

My body is desperate, in pain, and cold.
Maybe I should just forget him, like cheese left to mold.

But how can I forget a best friend like you?
My love is obvious; I just wish that you knew.


He found his way down a dark path.
And for that he felt the thick fury of my wrath.

She's gone now as I instead tended to him.
She fell into the dark ocean of jealousy and had a blissful swim.

He knows I'm angry but won't say a word.
He's acting as though I'm the cage and he's the bird.

He curls on the couch of our dorm, knees bent and eyes shut tight. My best friend is hurting, but how do I make it right?


And he's leaving me once more.
Out of my world and out the door.

Please don't go, I tell him, over and over. He simply states, don't worry, I'll be as lucky as a four-leafed clover.

Where he's going there are weapons and a battlefield.
He’s running blind, just a healing kit, and no protective shield.

Don't die, please don't die, I can hardly bear the thought.
I’d give in to my despair, allow my body to bleed, expire and rot.


We're running the streets of London again, eyes trained forwards as we sprint past Big Ben. He leads the way, heart racing with adrenaline, heart still swarming with unspoken tension.

However, lately, it's as though he wears a mask.
And why? Frankly, I'm terrified to ask.

It's in the way he speaks, the way he sways over to the couch of our two-bed roomed flat. Or the way his expression churns and winces. God stop looking at me like that!

It's in the way he stares, blankly and despairingly, irises twisting and turning in curiosity.

It's in the way he closes his eyes, sat straight at the living room table. His mind always fixed on something chaotic, and probably wholly unstable.

This man is constantly in another universe, on another world – his genius a heavy weight on his shoulders. His loneliness and drug addiction are blockades – large, heavy boulders.

Why won't he tell me why he's in pain?
By not telling me, what could he possibly gain?

Please, please, please, just come out with it! Say what's on your mind! Tell me now, and together, best friends since the beginning, we'll deal with what we find!


It's hard to help you pick out the right suit. It's part of the reason why, throughout this whole ordeal, I'll remain on mute.

The worst part is, we both match.
Both of us clad in a suit of black, gold, and a white pocket patch.

Do you know how hopeless I feel watching you walk toward her?
I thought, from the beginning, it'd be you and I for sure.

But no. I was wrong. To my mind, it feels like a simple reminder.
To my body it feels as though I've been tossed into the grinder.

Why would you love me?
What could you possibly see?

I have a fear of being touched and a fault of being openly honest and blunt. I loathe people and read their darkest secrets with a simple glance their way – a tiger, with details as the prize of the hunt.

My hair is a bird's nest of wiry curls; my skin is pale and nearly as white as pearls.

I'm messy and skinny, and an arrogant pain in the ass.
So tell me, how could all that possibly pass?


Where are you? Sent.

I hope you're not in an alleyway somewhere, unconscious, needle beside you oozing and bent.

How are you? Feeling okay? Sent.

You didn't overdose, though I'm still not sure where you went.

I haven't seen you in a while; want to do something? Sent.

Come on, come on – I need you close to me; I need to vent.

Why won't you talk to me? Sent.

I need to see you – any time with you is time well spent.

Call me whenever you can. Please. Sent.


I met you at a coffee shop today.
Wasn't that just a funny display?

You explained to me how your life has progressed since the last time we saw one another in the spring.
I asked you how you liked married life. You said, "It's not much different. Except for the ring."

You asked if I was lonely. I lied and said no.
You asked if I was eating and sleeping. I said yes.
I lied again though.

But then you brought up the old times, when we were in school. The old times, when we faced bullies and I tutored you in math.
You brought up one special evening in specific, a small, yet enormous impact of an event that led us on this current path.

"Do you remember when we met for tea?"

I shook my head because how could he possibly expect that from me?

"Your mother was out of her mind, tired of your screaming and crying." He chuckled, his expression nostalgic, but probably lying.

"Well, perhaps I wanted tea for myself. Did she offer me any?" I asked, expecting the burst of his giggles, and there were many.

"I looked at you, smiled, and you just," He paused, eyes narrowing as though willing himself to continue, as if he must.

He beamed wearily to his own curious mind before, "You fell silent. Absolutely silent."

I sighed, scoffed, and shifted in my seat; pain grasping my heart, unforgiving and violent.

He laughed solemnly and nodded my way, whilst I fell weak in my seat. I missed watching the brown of those eyes glisten and hit their peak.

I cleared my throat then because I couldn't do it anymore.
I can't believe I'm about to open this fragile door.

"What do you want?" I asked, far more angrily than intended, my expression serious. He scoffed and shook his head, staring at me like I had suddenly gone delirious.

"What do you mean?" He questioned, honest and sincere.
I merely answered him with an exasperated, furious sneer.

"This meeting; what's it about?"
Because, I was curious at this simple act. He's married, he's in a new chapter of his life, and I know that for a fact.

"I wanted to see you again. You're my best friend," He tells me, eyes confused and sad. I can't tell you the truth; that's just another predicament of worry to add.

So instead, I get to my feet, staring down at the ground below.
I hear the chair beneath him screech as he gets up as well; I wish he hadn't though.

I turn to leave, headed straight for the door.
He reaches forward, grabs my arm, and I can't take it anymore.

I shove him off and take a stand, because by hell, he better put down his hand.

"Was it not obvious to you from the moment we met?"

He squinted, perplexed, and I began to fret.

"You're so blind. So blind to what I feel!"
It makes me wonder: did he ever care? Was it ever real?

"I don't understand, just tell me!"
He yells, desperate and suddenly mad.

No, my composure is slipping. This is very, very bad.

"Put the pieces together, and maybe you'll see."
I love you, I love you. Do you love me?

He turns away, wincing to himself, hands pulled back, his eyes tightly shut. I take a deep breath, and head back to the exit. My walk is no longer a confident strut.

I leave him behind, alone and confused, in that dainty coffee shop on Baker Street. And as I dodge the desperate look on his face, by God, I wish I had faster feet.


She's left me now. We just weren't working.
A divorce has been filed; I can see you now, blissful and smirking.

Because you warned me didn't you?
Before the wedding, you just somehow knew.

Remind me again why I didn't listen? You take on that look, where your lips twitch and your eyes glisten.

That's when I know your telling the truth.
Thanks again for the final proof.

It's devastating that I haven't talked to you since we met in the coffee shop. You were holding back, perhaps afraid that once you started you wouldn't be able to stop.

But I've somehow put the pieces together now.
How did I not notice before? How? How?

When I dated a girl for the first time, you disappeared to seek drugs. You stared down at her like she was from the ground, like she should join the rest of the filthy, little bugs.

I thought you studied hard to be in my classes, my grade level, because you wanted to excel, learn, graduate and make it to the end.

I didn't think for one second, it was because you were in love with your best friend.


I love your normality, how simple you are yet complex at the same time. I love how you put up with my chaotic personality, my erratic mind, my fascination for gore and crime.

I love the tan shade of your skin, the small wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. I love the way you make me feel, how my heart soars and flies.

I love that you don't let the nightmares of war bring you down.
You overcome your fears, swim through the waves of bad memories and don't let yourself drown.

You're my protector, my guardian angel, my shield.
I have you now, and we're finally leaving this battlefield.


I love your intelligence, your negligence, and your ability to smile at the most terrifying of sights. I love knowing you’re a deep sleeper, and that you sleep talk most nights.

I love being the only person you can really talk to, the only person you want to spend time with. Together now, even through all that terrifying chaos, of which now feels as though it’s merely myth.

I love your mind, so clever and imaginative. So bright and bold.
I even love that, sometimes, you can be deadly, deadly cold.

I love that you’re different, that you think like no one else, that you do what you desire. I love that I know that inside of you lies a hidden fire.

Though we're two men, it makes no difference; it doesn't change the outcome in the end.
It just means we're two people that both fell in love with their best friend.


Our life is one big roller coaster ride, with the dips, turns, and the loop-de-loops. But I'm holding on to you now, ready for the next of the great big swoops.

We'll shriek together and we'll laugh, we'll feel the ever-present terror of fear. Perhaps we'll even scream and shout, shed a single tear.

It took you a while to realize just how much you mean to me, just how much I would do. Because by God, my love, remember: there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.

So until we die, I'll have your hand.
We'll stay together; we'll make a stand.

And even then, when your body fails you, when you need to leave the world and touch the sky. I'll be there to hold your heart to mine, and I'll be there to kiss you goodbye.

And then I'll join you, up there in the clouds, whether there's something for us or not. There has to be, I refuse to believe someone like you will remain under the earth to rot.

But either way, I'll be next to you, heart beating in unison, whether it's under the ground or above, I won't ever leave.
We'll have one another to hold and love, no matter how much the others cry, sob, or grieve.

I'll have you and you'll have me, and that's all I'll ever need.


We met over a cup of steaming, hot breakfast tea.
Course, you were just a baby, and I was just three.

I knew at that moment that I wouldn't regret meeting you - no, never. Because I knew at that moment, we were to be best friends forever.

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Teresa Knapp: Most of it had me falling off of my chair laughing and I was sure the best friend was going to end up involved when she showed up.Kept waiting for oral and then the actual act but it never came which was disappointing kind of.

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