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Fire and Water

by S.D. Staton

By Searra StatonPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
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Dedication: To T.A.H,

"Thank you fro being a friend."

-Andrew Gold/Cynthia Fee

It started with a cigarette. Then again all our best memories were wrapped around the butt of a smoke.

Because you were the Sagittarius fire, scorching your own path and I was the Cancer.

Not the kind that makes you cry, but the kind that killed you slowly.

But it was more than that, cause you had water in your soul and I had fire in my eyes.

Like the fire I set to my ex's possessions, exercising the possession he had on me.

And the water from your soul pooled in your eyes when I came to say good bye to the matriarch of your family.

I wish I was there to rip those needles from your veins, eliminate a fraction of your pain. But then again I've always attracted broken people.

Then again so have you.

I was a shapeless mass before I knew the joy of expression.

So many people let you down and I swore that I never would.

Do you remember the time we almost broke up? I cried so hard from caring so much about you, me and us.

You have the voice of a songbird and the fear of one trapped in the paws of a fox.

I have the gift of painting pictures with my words and a self loathing that binds my mouth shut.

I find it silly you still cry watching Titanic and you find it strange that I watch movies where people die, crying the tears I can't cry for myself for someone else.

Do you remember the second best year of my life? When the world was ravaged by plague and we were trapped inside.

Countless words spoken, countless ideas born, countless joints tokened.

For the first time since I broke you heart with the news that you'd never meet your godson, we laughed.

But even that ended in tragedy. I watched as the one I once called brother, broke your heart countless times. Worse, I helped him pick up the pieces.

I wish I never told you this is what true loved looked like.

We've always thought that the wicked suffering was justice but that justice for the suffering was buried by the wicked.

Do you remember when we banded together and branded together our skin permanently.

I took a bit of anarchy and you took a bit of peace from me.

I hope you are in the end, because I'll look at you and say,

Thank you for being a friend.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Searra Staton

28. Married. She/Her. Bereaved parent. Long time writer, first time publishing. S.D.Staton Publishing welcomes you to worlds of erotic romance and dark fantasy.

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