• I am unsure how to start this.
    So little has happened, in actions, this past week.

    Yet
    My emotions and state of mind lye shattered on the floor,
    A puzzle with no obvious edges or corner to start at.
    All due to the indirect consequence of words,
    Not so much themselves alone,
    Or even strung together,
    But who.

    Not being especially liked in the first place, a visit was most certainly bad news.
    But never was it considered to be this bad, this personal.
    Not only what is being said, but was isn’t.
    The silent “unsaid” something,
    Implied so violently,
    One turns away,
    To hide.

    Implications hang stiffly in the air, drawn to such heights by previous statements.
    The dark guillotine’s blade, weighted down with emotion, suspended stiffly.
    It would be a simple thing to bring the blade down upon me, and yet
    It can’t be said; it can’t end this way, not now,
    So I falter in my indecision,
    Accept the silence,
    Resign to this…
    Fate.

    But this is worse than death, she would do something like this, yet it is almost incomprehensible.
    Your silent submission means nothing, you aren’t free, and you stay there alone.
    And it is worse than any punishment that could have been,
    Having it hang there, a constant reminder,
    There is no control in this situation,
    No freedom grated now,
    No feeling is worse,
    Trapped.

    I cannot leave, I cannot change my mind now, I cannot pretend any longer then I already have.
    I do not care for her, and should she leave I would cry only for the fact I feel nothing.
    Making me seem the enemy, her the injured party,
    When all I have ever done has been for her,
    And nothing but her attitude,
    Has pushed me away,
    Hatred.

    And should there come a day when everything where to rely on me and I control her death or life,
    I would save her, let her live, just to spite her, just to show her that I am the better person.
    Just so that she would have to live knowing I know what she really is,
    And that I would save her anyway, that I would let her live,
    And it would consume her, and I would want to watch,
    But I would not, because her problems are sad,
    Not to be made fun of or abused in any way.
    I would save her from death
    So she could see
    Not everyone is
    Evil.

    Though she may chose to be.
    I am the bigger person
    At least, inside,
    I hope so,

    Because I do not want to be like her
    I could not live like that.

    To many faces,
    Too many lies.

    Not that I don’t,
    Not that I can’t.

    But not like her,
    Never,ever,
    Like her.