you hold onto the fire
like it would burn you alive to let go.
you left me with third degree burns;
every word that left your lips,
that put tireless hands to work
in typing up my demise
and sending it without a second thought.
then you ran. you hid behind the pain
you caused me, as if i hurt you.
you tore me down to pieces.
pointed fingers that weren’t clean
and deemed me unfit to carry.
no matter how irresponsible your choices;
i never would’ve made you feel badly
for being human. for choosing your own road.
but you did. i don’t know why.
and i don’t search for validation
for your unforgivable use
of a beautiful language.
you hurt me.
and you don’t get to deem yourself
a good friend
for not acknowledging that.