Remnants of My Happy Heart

your words as warming as the fire on a cold winter day from my heart they spread to the very tips of my fingers the feel of your hand upon mine when the tears streak my face it comforts me most in this time when i am fragile and prone to crumble you picked up my pieces glued me back together thank you, friend.

my friend is queer but do i really care something so dear but not even a hair queer is okay hatred is not how do you feel when you're being haught i love my best friend quirks or not she is my dear  which will never be forgot.