The time has come to write the letter
I should have written four years ago,
Instead of the rambling rant I flung
Mercilessly at you, verbal vomit
Sharpened by subconscious bile into
A blade that could pierce your heart.

Now, the truth of our friendship is
Dwarfed by the truth of my
Selfishness, of my emotional fuckwittery,
And by the guilt I feel for
The guilt I made you feel. Of all
The things I have done to people
I claimed to love, instilling self hatred
Must be the cruellest.

At last I see that, as meaningless as
That is four years late. Even the tired
Defence of not thinking before I spoke
Cannot get me out of jail: I thought
For days, weeks, months, and then
Chose my terrible words.

I do not deserve to apologise
Just as I did not deserve to grieve.
Like everything I write, this is actually
About me. Do not read this:
Stay as far away from me as you have
Chosen to be, live your life that is
Better for my absence, keep your happiness
Safe from all I hope you forget.

I will remember for both of us:
Songs of similar childhoods, the sofa
On which I never sat, the words you chose
To share only with me, the city I never
Saw in daylight, the countryside I never
Saw at all. I will remember so
You don’t have to.

As you say, being nice is underrated,
So for once in my life I will be
Genuinely nice and leave you alone.

05/10/2017

Posted on 05/20/2017
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