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When sisterhood are homes…

Dreaming of a home that was through a true friendship

A sisterhood

A safe place

Where you can be real with yourself,

To each other.

Judging each other character flaws

The ugly truths expose.

It’s cool because no one is perfect

And you know this friend wouldn’t dare use you in vain.

Their words are important to you

So you gently listen to them

Correcting them for the intent for them to grow

Never diminishing.

A true home where you know they are there walking beside you through it all.

A forgiving home.

A place where apologies is like the ocean.

Full of fluidity and energy behind our sorry’s,

Because we genuinely mean it and recognize when we have hurt each other.

A home where you are supported.

You are watered here like a flower because true love would never dare hurt you.

A friendship that’ll last not because you have common interest, but your soul recognize theirs.

Then I woke up.

I look around and I see selfish self intended love…

Friends who only hit you up when they need something,

Friends who can’t keep their word,

Friends who don’t support you when you need it the most,

Sisters who only care about their self.

I walk around and see friends that don’t talk for years and a honest conversation could mend their brokenness.

I saw greed that broke friendships apart realizing how money is truly the root that was dug up and a sisterhood bond turning brown ready to die.

I saw through space and time a beautiful home being broken apart because they have changed in a way where they don’t recognize each other any more…

I feel the loneliness and sorrow of friends being tore apart,

The ones you need you don’t have anymore.

They say it gets better with time, they say just forget about them,

But when you lose a friend that feels like home,

Nothing is a win.

Living on and trusting the universe it happened for a reason,

Hoping your days will get better.

For now the homelessness feels bitterness towards them,

How dare them you say.

The betrayal feels so real.

But the part we all forget is…

Did you see why they feel the way they do?

Did you receive a different perspective?

Did you let the water run dry when you could have led them to a river?

Was sorry too hard for you to say because you don’t like to realize your own wrongdoing?

Whether I was dreaming or whether I am awake nothing feels more painful than losing a home you thought was build on solid ground.

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