Back again
9-13-24
“Hello old friend, It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, without you I could finally smile.”
“I noticed that”, your sneering grin.
I’ve always had to pay for your sin.
“How you been? More trauma I see.
Even been told you might have PTSD.”
“What’s it to you?”, I say with with a sarcastic laugh.
“You’re always trying to wear that mask.”
“It works on nearly everyone but you”.
I think of everyone I’ve fooled, and their naive smiles too.
“So back again, to make me hate every existence of my being?”
“Oh yes. You know I live to make you question your life’s meaning.”
I grit my teeth, “do you ever have enough?”
“You know I’ll never get tired of this stuff.”
“I have even more amo against you.”
“And you’ll make me suffer over what is true.”
Taking a step forward, “you’ve finally learned.”
“You left scars, and they burned….”
“So now you’re also bipolar?
Just had it to your pathetic list of disorders.”
“Half of it is your fault, you believe it to be true.
As if it was your minds cue
Seeing shadows and figures that move in your head.”
You pout your lip, “are there also monsters under your bed?”
A sharp inhale, as I struggle to maintain my anger.
“You’ve always struggled with your behavior.”
You tisk with your demeaning way.
“That’s when your toxic traits come out to play.”
“You’ll never win.”
I force myself to say.
Cocking your head, “do you really believe this way?
You stumble, and sway every single day.”
“It’s your fault,
And you act like you don’t have a clue.”
You smile, studying your nails.
“Yes, this is indeed true.”
“Well let’s see,”
And you tap a figure to your temple.
“How many people have almost died again?
I hear it’s been decently plentiful.”
My eyes glaze over, becoming overwhelmed by grief.
My chest tightens with each heartbeat.
“Let’s see, well, your friend tried to hang herself.
Failing in her own mental health.
And you didn’t see it. It made your mind halt.
You think everyday, that it’s due to your fault.”
I stare at you, with no expression on my face.
“You really think you can hurt me more than my own mental state?”
“Almost lost your sister too, that made you cry till your eyes turned to sand paper.
Now that one was a real pain stapler.
And after years of fighting you ended up in a hospital.
How sad, how pitiful!”
“And another childhood mentor dead too.
Just add it to your griefs red hue.”
“I’ll never stop trying.”
I say filled with spite.
You cackle, “you’ve always been down for the fight.”
