Tired that you carelessly stroll into my mind uninvited.
that is the word that describes you: careless.
Not uncaring, but careless.

When you do come to me it’s not real.

When you text me
It’s not because you miss:
Me
Us
No.
It’s to make yourself feel better.

Duty is the death of friendship.

I’m tired of pretending to not see you when I walk past you on the avenue.
You, who didn’t tell me you had come home, looked happy.
Me, who had been hoping for you to come, left humiliated.

I’m tired,
of the nostalgia.
of denying the present.

Now, in the present, you are not here.
It is time for me to toss my self pity in to the sea.
You will not come back and I will not wait any longer
(Waiting to become important again).
I’m leaving the lighthouse to set foot on my ship.
On the island I burned our friendship and sent it to the stars.
They shaped me into what I am
but now that is all they (you) are:
Yellow flickers floating away.