Deadline to submit your poems has been extended to February 28th.

The Profile


It’s late. Very late. 

The sun will rise soon,

but I’m still awake

staring at her profile.


She was my friend,

a confidant, an advisor,

on everything

infinitely wiser 

than me.


When I was lost in the dark,

she was the light that guided me.


When I wanted to wage war

she counseled peace.


When I was depressed,

she held me tight 

from across the world 

and told me everything 

would be okay. 


When I was drowning in my hatred

she was the hand that pulled me out.


I told her everything

things which I swore to myself

that I would never tell anyone.


And then, she betrayed me.

Or maybe I betrayed her, somehow.

Now we’re strangers.


But hopefully, she’s up late every night

staring at my profile. 

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