A gift of emergency.
A harsh reminder of how stuck I am.
This feeling comes and goes.
Just like our relationship, for a moment you are proud.
Then an insult washes it down. Flushes it out of mind.
Suspicions rise of why you still try.
Why do I?
Even the flies on the wall know of the anger you possess.
Of the tight rope I walk, but I’m losing my footing.
You dislike the change in my being.
I speak and act a little too similar to you.
And you dislike it.
Hypocrite.