I am sad
We’re not the same as before
From when we gladly would take less than a split second to decide
On whether a restaurant
Held our interest and that particular brand
Of zest, fulfillment, life
But now we’re separated
An invisible roadblock;
It is to life and the loss of element –
Not that you ever asked,
Or that I ever quite complained
But it hurt when you used my sins against me
When you’d throw me to the dogs
If only it’d bring you to a higher point in his eyes
I am not the victim and yet
You and I have much growing up to do
In dealings with men
Or lack thereof relationships
I know we’re trying to grow,
And this whole time, I thought I had the grander, better perspective;
That I knew what to do,
So it was as if I schooled, tutored you;
But you have, you are your own person, being.
I don’t somehow, regret what I did
As callous as it sounds in being
But I do regret how it made you feel –
But in a bittersweet way,
It felt like comeuppance,
Because then you and then I
Understood what it was like to be betrayed.
No matter the times I’ll say
Nothing happened of the sort
And who cares if I like him or not –
Things are cut off, but tendrils ever casting their shadows
Hold a presence even when the concrete
Has been cast off.
So I don’t want to cling onto a friendship
That has in a way grown past due
Because maybe I, too, was unhealthy for you.
I can’t and I do presume to be a knowing voice of fortitude;
Yet you saw me mess up time and time again,
But hell, I’m trying, really trying
To be better than the person I am.
You’ll not read this,
Unless I show you.
I speak to complications,
And intertwined webs of pseudo jealousy –
I am sad because our allegiance sways
And there’s no trust, belief
And I wish there was a scapegoat to blame;
I wish I could pin it on human faults,
Allowing remnants of what existed
Of our friendship, to fester
In plain. Sight.
But you had overstepped where you did,
And it’s so hard to forgive you.
And I had callously done what I did
I am not the person you make me out to be
Because my own demons could pitchfork me
Into another realm, unseeing;
So now you can’t believe me,
Which makes sense.
To this lackluster friendship, feeling
I guess this is what does/n’t make sense.