It was the most beautiful, bitter fruit.
Though each bite was laced with poison,
I could not help but eat
for the hope that
I also discover the sweetness.
Your presence was fascinating.
Your mind thrilled me.
It was different.
I wanted to bask in your genius
and touch your daring thoughts.
It felt safe
to give you pieces of my soul
and my heart.
Your music and your story
made me hunger to understand you.
If only I could grasp your essence,
I would know why
you seemed so different.
You told me
you wanted an adventure.
I wanted to follow you
to the ends of the earth.
Take me.
But another holds my heart
more than you did.
More than you do.
You resented my weakness.
“I’m tired of people living in ruts”, you told me
Well I hate being in one,
but you are not the way out.
So I mourn our friendship.
And the beginning of something
that was not meant to be.
Every look,
every touch,
every word is confusing.
But the words you don’t say
kill me slowly.
I’m sick of your games.
Nice to see you,
for I am losing you perpetually.
Nice to hate you
and love you again.
And though I pretend it’s not so,
I want to kneel at your feet
and weep bitter tears.
Offer all of myself
to get back
the small pieces of you
that you gave me.
I am a fool
for thinking you were different.
You said that you cared
about us.
About me.
But those were pretty, empty words
thrown at me by a child to whom
I was just a piece of cake
you couldn’t have
to satisfy your hunger.
So much of my agony
is tied up with craving and loss.
You taught me
the perfection of a moment
and the fleeting nature of it.
Of all that was lost,
I’ll miss glimpsing your soul.
You weren’t who I thought you were.
Who I wanted you to be.
Everything that was beautiful about us
rotted of errors and falling.