She likes to make my temperature boil,
Telling lies paired with deceit
One cup of rage, yes it’s a large feat.
We used to be close,
Until better than me did she boast,
Wishing to hurt rather than love me,
That is not the way I want either of us to be.
We no longer talk
Although I still think of her as others gawk,
Maybe one day we will reunite
Choosing to hug rather than to fight.
© 2012 Christy Birmingham