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My Fault, Not Yours

The death of a friendship

By angela hepworthPublished 2 months ago 1 min read
3

it was my fault, not yours

that i grew to hate you

hate is a strong word

but it’s not as strong as what we had

between us was something indescribable

something like hunger deep in our bellies

like summer sweat down our faces and backs

like the splash of our bodies into your pool

like the feel of my back on your blow-up raft

as we floated and stared up into the sun

you were fearless

and i was fearful, but not with you

i was distracted with you

from all my worries

and all my failures

we used to galavant down the street

with interlocked hands

and laugh and scream and run

and even though i wasn’t fast like you

i was able to keep up

because i wanted you to be proud of me

now all i want

is to never see you again

i’m sorry for killing us

surely it was me

growing apart isn’t new to me

you tried at first, i never did

i was distracted

and i was so suddenly

so painfully jealous

of everything you had that i didn’t

of your goodness, your light

of your spark

to my dull, endless glow

what connected us was

something like the smell of your favorite candle

vanilla lime

in your house

that i pass every day

and can’t spare a glance at

for fear that i’ll see you

and what i’ve done to us

can it be called anything but hate

that i killed us in my mind?

i don’t think it can

because it was something like my girlhood

and yours

glowing in your kitchen and on my porch

in your pool and in my yard

in your room and mine

in your sister and mine

in your love and in my obedience

that i crushed in my hand

and it cracked and shattered

like it had never existed at all

heartbreaksad poetryFriendship
3

About the Creator

angela hepworth

Hello! I’m Angela and I love writing fiction—sometimes poetry if I’m feeling frisky. I delve into the dark, the sad, the silly, the sexy, and the stupid. Come check me out!

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  • TheSpinstress2 months ago

    This is heart-wrenching; beautiful and relatable.

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