I relapsed last night
As the knife met my skin
and introduced itself
Over and over again.

I'm disappointed with myself
I shouldn't harm my skin
I'm losing every battle
Because I refuse to win.

- N. Morin

The sun rose
Flickering on the pink flamingos
Being graceful
By the gold-glimmerish riverside
How has it become that,
My fantasies have become my days
I hope this happiness
Don't get washed away
by the waves

Losing a friend is never easy
But not knowing your friends is a very hard thing to comprehend

She told me we would be best friends forever
Until our hair turns grey and our skin into wrinkles
But oh how our forever was so short
How you left before the grey could set in
How you went away before our skin turns to raisins
And yet you wonder why we never speak,
How we never dare to see
That this life we lived is surely dying
Because one of us destroyed the ending
And how do I know if we're friends
If you never speak a word to me

The memories we have together
Hurt me a little more then ever
When I saw you this morning walking away from me
You didn't speak
You didn't look
But your boyfriend did
And he held something within his eyes
That gave me a bad feeling

Maybe you told him how you never speak to me
And never invite me
Maybe you told a little white lie
Of how I was the one to disappear when I was most needed

But then again you've never been that type of girl
Then again my mother was never that type of woman either
Until she was

How am I suppose to trust a girl who said we would be friends forever and left me alone
On a time of dire need

Now I live day by day confused of what we are
And what we'll be
When the end of year
Comes near

These empty spaces between us
Causes my herat to clench in fear
For if they get bigger everyday
Then surely we'll waste away

How can we heal something this broken
If all we ever do is turn the other cheek?
Do you even miss me?

Do you even remember me?

Am I so easily forgotten in these spaces between?

The friendly enemy,
  or enemy friend

What matters the difference,
  or need to pretend

Either stabbed in the front,
or knifed in the back

The wound just as fatal,
  in either attack

Blood given freely,
  or blood taken dark

Veins running empty,
  leading back to the heart

To face it undaunted,
  or preyed from the rear

Deaths twins will approach,
—on the tip of one spear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)