Your best friend will tell you there are ghosts in your house.
She will be beautiful in her dirty overalls in the garden, but she will laugh at nothing.
She will be easily persuaded, by lovers, friends, and fall into people as if falling into a trance.
She will become deeply and irrevocably seduced by the ideas in her head, stuck on them like flies in honey.
But she will still be your best friend.
Your best friend will look peaceful as she sleeps, either too much or too little, nothing in between.
She will speak to you with adoration, then speak in lies.
She will grow quiet as the years go by, and you will find greater and greater joy in the sound of her voice through a speakerphone.
But then will leave your ears ringing, shrieking of the existence she was cursed with.
She will call you to say goodbye and how much she loves you, time after time, after time.
She will be hospitalized, she will total 2 cars, and get hit on her bicycle by 1
She will tell you she feels fine, even though you can see the blood in her hair over the low quality video call.
She will kick and scream as her guardians drag her to the emergency room, thanks to the phone call you made, that you know is right, but feels hot coals in your throat.
And you will not hear from your best friend again, but someone who goes by a different name.
Your best friend will tell you how much better she feels, and laugh about the kind of people inside, tell you she kissed a girl, and you’ll laugh because you know its not the first time.
She will change her language, symbols replace letters, letters replace words, and you’ll spend the evening decoding anything and everything she said.
But she will still be your best friend, your best friend by a different name, but still.
Your best friend will get a job, and move home, she’ll start baking again and making art.
She will invite you to visit, and you will be more excited to hold her soft face in your hands, than you have been for anything in a very long while.
She will talk with you for hours, in the cold of January, with steam brushing along the loose strands of hair.
You will be proud, and you will feel mended.
But then, you will call every day and the phone will be busy, she’s, sleeping, she’s eating, she’s on lockdown.
She will finally answer the phone, and sound different.
Different than how different she was just a month ago.
But she will still be your best friend.
Your best friend will leave the apartment, the city, the state.
She will tell you she doesn’t remember, but the pictures are burned in your brain.
She will call you and ask you for sex.
She will call you and tell you shes going to be famous.
She will call you and scream shut your face.
She will call and call and call until,
You don’t pick up anymore.
But she will still be your best friend, the one you’ve never met before.
