To An Old FriendMature

You said you were my best friend,

And you kept that promise for eight years.

No more.

Perhaps that is what hurts the most.

 

I always thought you were loyal and generous,

But you are not the one who aches.

It is me.

Perhaps that’s what hurts the most.

 

We made up songs, and we drew pictures,

We had countless jokes; we were inseparable,

Till then.

Perhaps that is what hurts the most.

 

They called us best friends, and so we once were.

Then suddenly I could no longer claim that

We were friends.

Perhaps that is what hurts the most.

 

Then you stopped picking up, I thought you hated me,

And you answered my questions over text,

Cold and empty.

Perhaps that is what hurts the most.

 

So I thought, why can’t we move on together?

I’m not as young as I was. Are you scared,

That I remember all those times? Scared?

Surely no! But are you, are you scared? Why is it

That you don’t want to give me a chance?

 

Months later, you gave me a smile,

And I returned with a blank frown,

Still hurting,

But selfish.

And I feel so bad because I had the chance with that smile,

To be reassured that you didn’t hate me,

After so long and, I once thought, deep

A friendship.

 

Now it’s gone,

You’re gone,

And I feel guilty for me,

And I feel guilty for you,

And it was all so long ago but still I cringe and ache.

Perhaps that is what hurts the most.

The End

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