By: Debleena Majumdar

“You are not my friend”
She shouts, voice quivering,
Eyes firm, tiny hands on her hip.
A friend lost for all of one week.
Next week they will play again
Angry words forgotten, arms linked,
But the words remain, locked,
In the answers you seek.

“You are not my friend”
You wish you could cry,
The jagged sting of betrayal,
Cutting through your mind.
But the words die beneath
A smile pasted on parched lips.
You bring out the lipbalm
No cracks to see or find.