A furious swing to the right
For all the things you did to hurt me;
Than a furious swing to the left
For hiding behind someone,
Someone that I couldn’t be mad at,
Someone that you knew would be honest with me;
Something that you obviously can’t do.
The anger begins to pour out as the
Swift sword hits each opponent,
But in my mind I can only think of you,
The way you treated me;
The way you fill my mind with the terrible moments from that afternoon.
Each swing becomes more aggressive.
Round after round with continuous knockouts
I begin to wonder why you even dare to hurt me so bad,
Then want to act like nothing happened.
I begin to feel the pain
But a simple swing of the sword helps to ease away the pain,
But the pain comes back
As I get ready for my next opponent,
… “I don’t like you”… “Don’t talk to me”…
Distressed words wouldn’t hurt from your mouth
Or maybe grief would become more realistic
But no, instead you send a “messenger”
How could you use my best friend
To tell me something like that?
And suddenly I have no one to turn to
As I continue this cold and lonely battle.
Maybe a taste of your own medicine would help you to see the anxiety you cause.
Making me feel like an idiot…
Don’t I deserve a chance to stab you in the back?
Use your best friend against you?
How would it feel if I hid behind someone else?
But how is it that I’m that one having to deal with it.
But now I restrain my words of anger,
While you just ignore the situation,
Having to dealing with something we both know that you started
But you won’t own up to it.
Now, our friendship has turned into hate.
After all of this wasting time I’m still left alone
Dealing with the terrible memories,
Unforgettable memories.
But mostly importantly, I will never be able to win this battle.