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there was the misunderstanding
in a moment of need.
You felt
like an imposition
and shared less of yourself
moving forward,
but busy as she was,
she noticed your withdrawal.

there was the misunderstanding
when she assumed the worst,
as if she'd forgotten
who you were,
what you stood for,
and what you meant to her.

For the sake of preservation,
together you compromised
and tried to mend
the jagged lips of that wound,
but it was never the same.

Over time,
you unfollowed the posts
that showed her surrounded
and left you alone.
You shelved any reminders
of your friendship
so they'd be within reach
but out of the way.

That summer you wrote, despite knowing
she could never
bear to read your words,
about cutting down trees
that in previous poems
had stood tall.

This summer,
she wrote about another friend
who refused to hear her side
and turned her pain against her.
You felt for her,
but you couldn't help thinking
she'd missed the parallel.
You left quietly,
jagged lips sealed and aching,
because you couldn't possibly
shift the focus back to you.

When she chased you,
it was only just;
she invited you back in
but with condition
after condition,
leaving you with hands tied
and at an arm's length
so that your closed door felt
at once like the loss of a limb
and an extrication of self.

you have yet to cry for her;
the closest you've come
was today at the library.
While November's wind
thrashed against the Texas sun,
you leaned on the fender
of your silver Corolla
and gathered your courage,
then laid her books to rest
in the donation bin.
Written November 3, 2018.
Crystal-Magic13 Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
I know how much this hurts. 

Like dry eyes, a sore throat, and a headache. 
Oh Mel, I'm sorry. :huggle:

I wish... but I don't know what to wish anymore. :( 
Some things are just hard. Some days are just sad. 
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Submitted on
November 3, 2018


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