sometimes
I wish I wasn’t nice to him
even though
I know that was the best way to handle it
even though
he ended up apologizing
even though
it would have hurt so much more to be rude
I still sometimes wish
that I wasn’t nice to him
because i’m afraid that maybe he took my niceness as an invitation
maybe he took it as a welcome mat in front of a brand new house
and maybe because I was nice to him he thinks what he did was okay
and maybe because of me he will do this to someone else
because maybe I didn’t make his life hellish enough
but trust me when I say that if I made his life hell
it would only have made my life worse too
because every time I said his name
he would say mine twice
and I was tired of my name getting swarmed up in the monster that was his lips
because I had already had enough
but sometimes I still wish that I dragged him through the dirt
and made him feel how deep the imaginary scars in my chest stung
and let him know that he was so lucky that I was so nice to him
because I really did have the power to snap him in half
but I didn’t want anyone to feel the pain I was feeling
not even him
so I was nice to him