My friend, Jim.

My friend Jim
is quiet. He talks
to no one, but me
Actually, no one
can see him, except
me. He is invisible
as I am, sometimes.

Before my first
kiss, he leans in
and whispers
“Don’t bite her
lip, she wouldn’t
like that, no”, I cringe
a little.

In a crowded bus
or a train, we
usually stare
at each other
in  silence, because if I
started talking, people would
think I am crazy, maybe
I am, but Jim does not
think so.

On those cold, lonely
nights, where I would
take long walks
to nowhere
to think
about things, and
people, Jim would be
quiet too because
he would know I
needed that, more than
anyone could
understand.

As I grew older, we talked
less and less. It was not
long before he became
completely silent, only
ever staring, and walking
and walking, and staring
together, and that was
enough
because the world
had already become
too loud.

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