Hey Samantha…
Remember when we talked of all those kids who have changed so damn much?
Yes, when we walked the train tracks and told of our secret wishes, you never told me you wanted to be a whore.
You used me last summer. And I let you.
I was glad you weren’t hanging with them.
Remeber when we spent the night at my house and drew pictures on my white white walls.
Yes, the music, my screaming music- not your bouncing hiphop beats now, was so loud in my quite empty house.

Hey Samantha…
remember when we were best friends?
I do. I don’t want to.

Because these days.. I don’t know you anymore.