He walks into the back after taking two days off, after a minute begins to shake and a few tears roll
“What’s going on?” a friend asks, his distress obvious, something taking its toll.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he replies cold as stone
After two more attempts without success, his friend walks away with a groan.
For the rest of the fortnight, his friend watches him walk slow, be physically weak, give way to bouts of trembling and rapid breath
“I refuse to talk about it!” he says, his friend, “And I refuse to see you walking toward death!”
They argue, he refuses to tell, his friend can’t stand to see him with such aches
Finally, in anger and knowing his friend cares, he breaks
In his dark as the night eyes, the lightning flashed and a fire burned with God’s wrath
His tremors intensify as he manifests the indifferent anger of a sociopath
He clenched so hard his fist
That his fingernails cut his palms and blood dripped down his wrist
“I got really, really high and saw myself raise the blade
Before I dug it into her back, she didn’t even look afraid.
I didn’t even remember what I’d done after I was sober the next day
Until she told me why we couldn’t be friends anymore, how she became my prey.
I don’t know how far I plunged the knife in or how many times, she refused to let me know
I may have brought her within inches to death, it may have been a single, quarter-inch blow
And I’ve seen her around since and she smiles and says hi
It makes me hurt all over and feel like I’m the one about to die
Hatred is self-destructive, hating me would hurt her, so I don’t want her to hate me
But God, make her despise me as much as she can without hate, I plea
But maybe I’m happy she smiles and says hi because it makes me hate myself more, without reserve
And I want to rage against myself, fall into self-destruction, get what I deserve.”
But his story is only symbolic to the reality
He was high, but on her love, from his pain and anger it had set him free
He did stab her in the back, as he betrayed her trust
And he really did not know what he did, what exact actions stomped her to the dust
He lost his friend by something he did, it haunts him he could hurt someone and not know how
He stabbed her in the back, but does not know which was the broken vow
As he watches shock and disbelief overcome his friend’s face, as he watches a tear escape his friend’s eye,
He digs deep in his self hate and reminds himself loudly on the inside, I did not lie