I refuse to relate her to the sunrise and the sunset-
as there are already far too many things that remind me,
but I'll have you all know-
I think of her every single day.
This morning I bit my tongue in fear that maybe...
I am in love.
I thought that
there could be no other explanation
for why someone who isn't even present in my life
consistently
rips herself into my mind.
But that is only I shining light on her once again.
Like I've done so since we became friends.
No. I am not in love.
I am
I was betrayed.
And I have not
can not
forgive.
My trust began to vanish
when the hot air of her whispers
tickled my ears
and fear swished inside of them.
Her pleas for friendship
were seasoned with 1-up mushrooms,
and she always saw the bigger firework,
dreamt the more vivid dream,
had the better taste,
in self-righteous scream.
Love?
I politely decline your offer, miss.
I don't care to love you, miss.
For the last time
Goodnight.