Friends to Enemies

It hurts a bit.

Or a lot.

Yeah.

It hurts a lot.

The purposeful pushing.

The shoving.

The kicking.

The sinful pinching.

The hissing.

The burning.

No more love.

Only hate.

No more reasons.

Only excuses.

It all hurts a lot.

Every effortless blow.

Every bruise.

Every scar.

Every painful lash.

Every crack.

Every smack.

One hateful word.

One glare.

One snicker.

One inside joke.

One jab.

One poke.

It's so awful.

The memories.

The loss.

It's soon gone.

The laughs.

The fun.

You're hers now.

I'm alone.

I'm lonely.

She's back now.

You're gone.

You're done.

We are over.

We who?

What friend?

Old Best friends.

Past friends.

Broken enemies.

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