The thought of you making time for others,
and not me, kills me because I was
your best friend and you are still mine but
somewhere along the way, that phone line got cut.
And maybe I missed the memo that the alarm on our friendship began beeping and you woke up
while I was still sleeping.
Or that the clock struck
midnight, leaving me sitting in the rotted remains of our childhood.
How is it possible that the added days of us
became so replaceable that you "Don't understand how you made it through until you met, blank."
I don't see how this recurring trend became a thing,
as if recycling friends as if they didn't
exist is okay and how
"I've been busy"
equates to making everything just fine.  
I would have settled for a text just know whether or not you would be the next in line with every other person
I had dared call "friend".
How did we go from strangers
to sisters, to you not caring, and me just staring, waiting for you
to make a move, but knowing it would never come.