71 Readings


Wine bottle in hand,

she drunk danced on the edge

of the floating dock.

A setting sun-kissed silhouette,

she wore my sweater

a size too large for her slender frame.

She wore an easy peace

a size too small for the chaos she caused.

She extended an open hand.

I stared at the wood.

She twirled and laughed

at the sky.

The only trouble I ever wanted,

she lied

and called me replaceable. Then,

she cried

and called me

when life was unbearable.

I was the calm

before the storm

that followed her.

I was the silence in the space

between her flashing lightning

and her crashing thunder.

I was the stillness in the eye

of the tempest

that rushed around her.

I was the best

least important

friend she had.

Posted 01/10/19
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