Listen up, sweetheart.
Here is another poem
full of the gloom
accompanying our failures
and the off tune
of our silent cries.
Tell me, were we always
this way?
Sad, disingenuous and hoping
for just one moment
like yesterday?
A moment where we
could still be carefree
and find comfort
in calling each other
"friends" in company?
I was under the impression
that we had something good.
A bond from love,
not a product of
the disappointing regression
of our social lives.
But pardon me if I seem blunt
for once instead of keeping
my mouth shut for the sake
of your ego.
Or agreeing to "catch up",
fully knowing you'd forsake
my friendship in the end.
No, I do not claim
to be guiltless when it
comes to facing
my own failures.
But at least I don't
ignore your texts
or try to pretend
I actually give a shit.
After these years
of friendship we shared,
I'm glad to say
I finally see right through you
and have concluded that
you only cared
about what "seemed"
and never what "is".
Try as I might
to convince myself that
our friendship was true,
as I got older
I started seeing how
I was never your real choice.
I was just a good placeholder.
