I don’t want some online friends or acquaintances or followers,
who see my best side when I want them to,
the girl I wish I was.
I want to have real friends,
friends who are brave and let it get messy.
Real friends bare their souls, and share clothes.
Weaving stories, sometimes over wine.
They don’t judge if you act crazy or cry ugly.
They do life with.
I want those friends.
Who not only pick up the pieces,
but come alongside with the glue.
Friends who don’t just love me anyway,
but love me because. 
Girl Power, Poetry, Random Musings, Writing

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