By: Linda M Crate

you miss me?
she claimed to and then
ended our
friendship over something
petty and juvenile
as me not answering a
text whilst i was
working,
and it must be nice
to live in a delusional world
where everyone moves to
your beck and call;
i am no
one’s puppet don’t dance
for anyone
you hate that you can’t
pull my strings—
she’s done?
i am, too,
no longer will anyone
manipulate my
emotions and i’ll cage myself
in a broken shell
refuse to trust so easily again—
you were my best friend
twenty two years,
and now nothing is left
but the beauty of silence.