The Ghost of Your Gun

I will never know how you do not choke on the taste of your own self pity and righteousness.

That victim card you are always waving looks a startling shade of red to me.

Do the others really not hear the warning alarm blaring in their ears when you speak, tone full of manipulations?

Even now, you reek of denial and faux innocence. It is nauseating.

I still remember how your “friendship” felt like a gun to my head. (Sometimes I still have my hands raised.)