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  • Writer's pictureBecca Coile

My Friend, My Love

I cannot hold up my head

My Friend, My Love

It has been low for a while

I used to believe in the idea

That we were all here for a reason

But now

I see another beginning that was covered by those that cannot acknowledge

Their own story

We break bitter bread when our feet stumble forward in the blindness of the night

My Friend, My Love

Will you speak to me if I cannot hold on?

I am consumed by this fear

That I am not worthy to stand with you

Conditioned to this fall

I have spilled all my secrets on the ground

Exposed but not known.

My Friend, My Love

Where did you go with my confessions?

I can only see the backs of men

And as I weep they offer me a drink from a trough of their own hatred

I can part ways with this place

Four walls and crumbling corners

But my friend, my love

I need to hold you close again

Because this path is filled with so much I cannot shoulder


My Love, My Friend

Where do we start?

Can I confess my way?

The road that was cleared by a system that wanted my presence

But only at the cost of my own soul

I followed, yes

I listened, yes

But the root of our distrust was grown in a soil cultivated by the bones of lies

Books with empty pages

Spoken with a belief

That we cannot question all who go


A godless day of remembrance for each soul that cannot find its way home

My Love, my Friend

In the puddle of anger and tears

I find myself


Waiting for you to return

My Friends

This voidless beginning

Was never meant to speak for me

Truth cannot be held by the aspirations of deceitful men

Their idols are stored at the steps of their own temples

Each one carefully built

To hold back love

The hands of fools only know how to build things that will


To nothing

Dirt on dirt


And swept away

My Friends

You will remain

Pillars of the King and his Kingdom

You were made to be


In the presence of each other

I will Rebuild what the wolves have broken

I will place you back in the pasture

The wind will call you by name

And the rivers will not dry up

Roam free, My Friends



by Jay Coile

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