Some people say I hold my friends too tight.
Hold too many of them by the wrist
Leaving black and blue marks where these child-sized hands wrap around.
But I’ve never seen that.
Never seen the problem in me holding on tight.
I’ve fought for friends.
I’ve drank the dregs of countless friendships.
Always the one taking the last sips after the other person has walked away from the bar.
But I’ve always accepted that.
It is my choice to hold on.
My decision to be that friend.
So I’m sorry if this friendship chafes
Just know I would never abandon anyone who needed me.
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