Dear Peter

I saw that. 

I saw how you tried to manipulate me into feeling bad about leaving you. 

I’m not sorry. 

I am sorry that you forgot how alike we were. 

Or more different than I thought. 

How easy I can rationalize pain of close ones near and dear. 

Probably not Laney or Cheyanne. 

I love them. 

You, not so much. 

You’re so like me that it’s disgusting. 

You’re like the old me that saw her wrongs and didn’t want to change. 

You’re the me who isolated herself and saw no wrong until she stepped out an embraced the world for the beautiful green and blue orb that it is. 

We are not alike anymore. 

I’m happy to say that. 

When I see you I see the twitch I had when new encounters approached. 

The anti social demons that rejected affection but craved attention. 

I’m sorry but we are not in the situation anymore. 

I cant relate anymore. 

I cant see you anymore. 

Sincerely -an old friend. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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