I sigh
Grief stricken
There’s a strong seduction in me
I want to be sad
I want to cry
I want to draw rose colored lines on my arms
Back then tho,
I couldn’t enjoy the gift i had
Now that it’s a memory,
The only grief that strikes is,
The nostalgia of pain
They yell and cry
They demand respect with a knife
There’s no comprehension in our eyes
I threw those eyes away
To fight to see a different story
One written by the author of all
“So it’s a truce then?” I enquire
“No.” The word fills the page
I rage within feeling false injustice
I look around
Eyes clouded by jealousy
“I was never at war with you.”
A sigh
I guess…
The same goes for me
“Can we be friends?”