laughingstock

past friendships

forgotten feelings

now just giggling childishly

at their life now

perhaps i should feel sorry for her

but how can i, when she left me?

simply watching black hair

flick in the corner of my eye

distant shouts, akin to my memory

replacing me

turning, turning away

to face the sun

instead of standing in a lightning storm

with a broken umbrella

like i had so many months before

the light had always been behind me but

i was too afraid to go to it

perhaps i have lost some of the benefits of that friendship but

i know this is best for me

looking around

looking ahead

feeling the nudge of softer petals in my fingers wherever i go

jarringly different than

the thorns and prickly succulents that had once made my hands bleed

but just enough for me to think

that i could tolerate the pain

yes, perhaps some of those flowers are wilted and brown

but at least

i can rejuvenate and enjoy

their beauty by myself

and create natural, pure happiness

all on my own

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