We’re friends, even so, I dig in deep, call him out harshly and sharp, rebukes showered
Tell him I despise how so greatly he was a coward
To not confront my anger and wrath, be damned how high it towered
You’re friends with us both, if you hadn’t done nothing for her, did you never think you’d be doing something for me?
Help avoid turning my puddle of shame and hate into this consuming sea?
No regard to that, how could’ve you been so content in your complicit state with my evil against she?
You did nothing as I abused, harassed, otherwise bullied her for, what was it, six weeks or so?
Just watched as I dragged her and I ever more low
Just watched every single time I threw a blow
You should’ve beaten me until I was puking blood and shoved me out of your car into a ditch
So tell me why you didn’t even strike me once, weakling bitch
You definitely had no right to not try to just talk to me and sort out my glitch
But it hurts more living with what I did to her than anything you could’ve done to me, deserved even before my anger emerged, so one part of me would like to believe it’s for the best
But the single knife in my heart is not worth the countless I drove into her back and chest
So I’ll always wonder how you justified your inaction each and every time, how it did not drive you insane and it’ll be a mystery to me how you find any rest