Sit, but wander inside, wondering
over a few things we once had.
I remember the string you held
and used, wound around my hand
as you led me to the edge,
smiling, you told me this won't hurt.
I walked and wondered whether you
lied. There were plenty of times I had
doubted you. The time you told me
of your mother's suicide. Your father's
addiction. Your own.
I carry on walking, because I still believe.
I sit at the edge, wondering where
you've slipped to. The edge is sharp.
The edge is impressed. Will doubt push
me further, or have you slipped up from behind,
to cut in to my back, to twist the knife.
Remember the time we spent together,
As you lay in your cold silence in another
world. Across the pond.
Remember the time you spent lying.
Remember the time I spent hating.
Remember the tears you spent flirting.
Remember the tears I spent wasting.