when you were eight,
you moved into the neighborhood and cried because you'd lost all your friends.
i was the resident social butterfly and i was supposed to take you under my wing,
but you wouldn't have that.
equals, you said.
i wouldn't defy the revolutionary, so i became one.

when you were nine,
you asked to be my queen even though i already was one
because at the time a marriage between two girls wasn't wrong.
your coronation was made of chalk and asphalt dreams,
crowns drawn in pink on sidewalks,
but i didn't want to be the realist, so i was the one who brought you a tiara made of aluminum.

when you were ten,
everyone thought you were the girl who'd ascended,
but you were the girl who took me down. i didn't mind,
since i was still a queen anyway. we were still equal,
we were revolutionaries in a one-sided war.

when you were eleven,
you received an a in art class for the first time
and went outside to draw until a rainstorm
hit and washed it all away, scraps of soggy paper in the gutter
watery chalk powder on the concrete.
i stood in my doorway, sketchpad in hand, and sketched
you running into the rain.

when you were twelve,
you realized that boys were, in fact, quite cute,
and read twilight. then you realized
there wasn't a single real-life edward cullen,
and decided periods and inflated chests were for losers.
i pretended not to stare at the boys you turned your nose up at.

when you were thirteen,
you lost your popularity because really,
who likes artists and idealists and dreamers?
i stayed with you and pretended i never saw your tears.

when you were fourteen,
you washed away your dreams, took off your crown,
and said you hated them all.
i stopped hanging out with you not because i wanted popularity,
but because i didn't like you anymore.
you didn't smile or dance and when the rain came,
you stood still.

when you were fifteen,
you got your first boyfriend, stomped on his heart, and he called you a whore.
you left me sixteen messages that night
while he kissed me on my couch and called me the only queen.

when i was sixteen,
i said i was sorry, and you said you were sorry too, only
then the phone went dead.
i found your body the next day.