dear best friend,

it's because i'm not strong enough
and i can't help it
i'm sorry.

and i know maybe the real me would be the same
my enemy is me and i am my enemy.

you'll try to comfort me
but what's the point?
the fire that keeps you warm still burns in the end.

and you'll tell me to stop having these thoughts
to live as we are
and then you'll change the subject

but my mind is still on it
and i don't feel comforted
i just feel
a cold burn from the fire.

and you think i'm joking sometimes
and i think i'm stupid all the time
i'm a fool
for clinging onto you
the way a leaf clings onto a tree right before winter.

i'd rather let go of you
be alone
be my own friend
than have you as my friend.

i'm hesitant to call you 'friend'
it's like labels are comfort to humans
because it's not that i don't like you
but if you saw me you wouldn't like me
and if i confessed to you
you'd change the subject.

we talk about everything
but we avoid me
because it's like i'm a monster inside
and we're all afraid to find it standing next to us.

and i wish you'd understand
i want to be your friend
but you don't want to be mine

because the real me is worse
i'm ugly
and you won't believe me if i tell you
but i just want to protect you
from me.

i'll feel jealous but i won't regret it,
knowing you're better without me.
should i send you this?
i love you as much as best friends can love

but
the real me doesn't care
because in the end,
it's either you or me getting hurt.

so what
i'll be a loner
treading on the outskirts of everyone's lives
not that i could care.

this could be a birthday gift,
me to you,
one less toxic friend
because we both know it's true.

i can't help it
like that ivy can't help that it's poison.

and i'll watch this story unravel
i can't be your friend
and maybe
you'll change the subject.

how funny,
you must know it too then.

i'm a grenade, don't you see?
it's only a matter of time before i blow up.

you'll deny it
but you're fooling only yourself.

even if you deny it,
the truth
stays the truth,
and truths are hard to change.

and yeah,
maybe you'll compliment my writing,
but you shouldn't.

read it.
writing is meant to convey a message
and it's the message you should talk about.

is this self-pity?
no, it's you who might suffer
the loss of a friend.

deep down,
maybe we both knew
i was the villain.

and i'm sorry.
sorry is all i can say
because i'm weak
and i might not be able to look you in the eye at all this week
without taking the label of your best friend.

sorry.

your best friend,
me.