Outgrown the Pot (Part II)

Two weeks, three weeks, more than four

The silence rises, I can't be sure

But I think the pot is not only outgrown

But shattered into pieces, our friendship blown

Up, blown out of the water, exploded like the war-torn shore

Of Normandy, though normally, I feel I'd care a little more

Too long gone, too wrong of her to assume

That certainly I wasn't just confused,

But merciless, and I had blown my fuse

That cut pretty deep, and I can't keep

Pretending any longer that I don't lose sleep

Fighting in my dreams with the wonderings

Of how to correct these blunderings

Can this relationship even be saved

Or can the bridge not be repaved?

I knew it back then, but I had forgotten

Just how her morals are always begotten:

Out of her own rotten head

Come declarations that should never be said

They don't flower, though they grow

She'll often tell you what she won't show

The goddess of an imaginary world is the writer

Though in reality, she's nothing but a high-horse-rider

With a blindfold around her eyes

Megaphone to her mouth, she does despise

Anything and anyone who does not cower

Before her nonexistent power

And these petty games are getting pretty lame

How long could it take to forget each other's names?

Eight years sharing fears, dreams, and life

Then in one moment, the rancor ran rife.

-

What lies before me now is the choice

To ghost her or let That Ghostly Voice

Inside my heart break apart the hardened stone

And call out her nonsense, make her pick up the phone

And face the consequences of middle-school behavior

She's the only one who can't see she's not Madam Savior

Of downtrodden children or anybody else

(Least of all, definitely not her own sorry self)

I'm wrestling with the indecision

Because texting arguments takes a kind of precision

That no one possesses to convey the whole truth

Especially without coming across as ruth-

Less, so I'm stuck in the silence, too

If you were in my position what would you do?

Let the long-blooming seeds of friendship die

Or take the plunge and swallow your pride

In the effort to fix a minor misunderstanding

Blown up into an agonizing, beyond long-standing

Mexican stand-off and cold-shouldered war?

From day one all through week four

I've missed her sorely, but I can't seem to send

The simple text that could bring back my friend.