i didn’t know her but i knew her

i’m making her up
in my head
as the grief moves through me
through time

i’ve decided she would have been shy
and quiet, maybe even a little artsy

i knew her better than anyone in the world
which is a special thing to say
but there’s only so much
i could know

so when/ if eternity rolls around
and i meet a rambunctious, spunky,
outgoing tomboy
i guess i’ll just eat my words

and chalk it up to one more thing
i was wrong about —

gladly gladly, wrong about
if it means that i could meet her
just one more time.

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