Slipping Away

October 8, 2008
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It used to be different.
Laughter found its way into the midnight hour.
The three were inseparable.
Additions were accepted warmly,
at first.
Changing attitudes added further discrepancy.
Phone conversations once long and carefree,
grew forced and abrupt.
Drifting further out of their hands,
into his control.
Worried for a friend,
who is clueless.
Scared for her own humanity.
Words falter…
What happens when a friend drifts away?
You throw out a rope and hopes she grabs a hold.
The rope is brittle, fraying at the edges,
but the center is strong.
She barely grabs the frazzled edges.
It begins to unravel slowly,
the strands pull apart one by one.
She holds on aimlessly.
Completely unaware that the rope leads back home.
Clueless of her own behavior.
She can not control her own actions,
not with him.
Fog clouds any coherent thought.
He is the fog, blinding the path to where the rope leads.
It falls, descending slowly from her fingertips,
slipping away.
The path lays forgotten.
The two are left, neglected.
Left to mourn the loss of blinded friend.
When regard returns,
they will be there.
Lingering on the outskirts,
where they have always been.

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