Alexa serves as a constant reminder that the divide

between everything perfect and imperfect is imaginary;

the discoloration in our clothes caused by the sprinklers

that hit us during our countless adventures, proves,

the world is not black and white,

we are left looking not so solid, yet still whole

she represents how not everything great in life goes smoothly,

the bumps on our skin, peeking from underneath our facemasks

during our many, many sleepovers

Scars that closely resemble her dimples formed in every laugh,

all of the split ends people seek to cut off

simply evolve into the memory of us braiding each other’s hair when bored-

although how can one be bored during all of the chaos instilled in our friendship,

no, It is not a sense of boredom, just a sense of calmness

the screams heard during horror movies

aren’t so loud when we are together,

the cracks in our voices during the laughs,

just prove we are growing up side by side,

we have transformed into one during the 11 years we spent together,

one friendship during our experiences

one family during our vacations

one soul during our thoughts

we are a contradiction in human form,

our crooked teeth, stained yellow,

still carrying

all of the food we shared,

it persisting like

our soft hearts in this hard world,

though the imperfect world doesn’t seem so bad when we are united,

the imperfect world is no longer imperfect,

because how can anyone look at these flaws and tell me they aren't perfect