"Do you miss her?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, I hate her."
"But, she think-"
"-I don't care what she thinks, Jenny. We're not friends anymore."
"Fine, whatever. It's been almost a year, though. Just acknowledging her wouldn't be against the law."
"So?"
"I know, I know. You hate her."
Damn right I hate her. She never respected me, or invited me to things when she always invited our other friends.
She always left me out.
With that stupid, old pout.
Best friends, we were.
Laughing until our bellies hurt.
But it was all fake,
wasn't it?
Because all we were trying to do
Was to beat our other mates
The best friends of the group,
Always together.
With their private jokes
And facebook pokes.
All we ever wanted was to beat them
At a game they didn't even know they were
playing
That's what tore us apart
I suppose
Me and my best friend, Rose.
YOU ARE READING
Fingers
PoesiaJust a little something, A poem; more like, About a girl, Who fell in love with a boy, Who isn't around anymore. And many other stories, About many different people, Living very different lives, But who all seem to, Relate, To each other, In some wa...
