A Poem of Estranged Friendship

To find a person that one may call family is something to be cherished. And I did, I cherished it- that I am most certain of.
Yet now, in hindsight, I can't help but wonder whether true family would be capable of the things that you did to me.

There was a time you were my sister, no, soulmate. A time in which you were the only one I could count on to really know me. To know what would make me laugh, and what would make me cry. To know that the object of all my desires was to escape the walls of reality and penetrate a land of dreams, with you.

And yet, no matter the time we spent, and no matter the laughter and love we may have shared, you never saw the darkness in the behinds of my eyes. Shorter, sharper and crueller I grew, and grow with me you did. Not sympathy, no- but of sympathy I was undeserving.

My every irritation quirked your brow, my every jab piqued your interest, my every move enticed you.

The sharper I grew the further the distance stretched between us, and from the moment I voiced our distance the anchor snapped. Lower and lower I plummeted until your idle eyes could no longer see me.

Another world I did enter, but one I had not manifested in my dreams. A world that I yearned for but was not capable of withstanding. A world in which food became numbers on my calculator, where my bones brought me joy and my supposed 'friends' knew only my name. A world where laughter remained foreign, as though trying to make sound within a vacuum. A world without you seemed a world not worth living.

So when I returned, when a smile in the corridor manifested itself into a family reunion, back to what we had known for so long, I thought that the familial bond that we used to have, that I must have taken for granted, was one that I would never underestimate again.
I blamed myself, as if I cut the ties of the anchor, creating my own doom- unable to see clearly as I can now that it was you who cut me off and threw me away.

It was you who knew I was enduring a state of suffering, it was you, the one who knew me best, who would have certainly known something was wrong. You knew, and I know you knew.

New faces emerged, your eyes began wandering as you sought something greater, someone grander. Someone who could worship you in the ways I wouldn't. Someone who would hang off your every word as if written upon ancient scripture.

You became mean, like a child. Bitter like coffee in a cold, harsh brew.

I know you better than anyone, and yet you don't know me at all. Not anymore.