She’s a Bully.
She said I was dreadful.
She taunted my shadow like a prisoner in a cell.
She continually tortured my ability to think so she could comment on my ignorance.
She has scrutinized the way I walked to reflect the way she walked.
In order for me to not be hurt I hid in my image of serenity.

I told her she was dreadful.
I said things that should have been kept confidential.
My lack of compassion has left me flipped inside out.
Now as I try to amend, I lack originality.

She tries to call.
Without sympathy I did not answer, answer the phone with the unrepentant tone.
Her anger is what has left me un-open for forgiveness.
Her treatment leaves me entangled in a web of humiliation.

Now I stare into a two sided mirror that reflects the embarrassment I once felt.

As I call, I feel the past cannot be forgotten.
As I sit next to the phone I feel the departure of my alter ego.
My end request is to be forgiven and feel happiness once more.
I’m not a Bully.