Ropes

Friendships are fickle things.
They often hang by a thread,
No matter how thick you think the rope may be.
And even the most mindful observer can be tricked by the illusion.

Sometimes the rope will snap at the slightest touch.
Sometimes, it was wearing thin all on it's own.
Sometimes, one person attached to the rope sets it ablaze.

I set the rope ablaze.
My passion drove me over the edge.
Pardon me, not passion. Lust.
Pure, unadulterated lust.

Feelings I kept at bay,
No matter how much they snapped at the leash.
All it took was for a particularly bad day for me,
And an incredibly good deed by you
To turn our rope into nothing more than cinders.

And now... my word means nothing.
All I had to offer
Is draining down the sink.

The ropes binding friends are bound by different things.
Ours was trust.
And while I'd easily put my life in your hands,
You can no longer do the same.

I can only watch now,
As our rope burns to ashes.
The light showing the hurt in your eyes.
While in the reflection I see my own guilt.

You told me I was fine.
That it was okay to have those thoughts.
That it didn't matter so long as I didn't act out on them.
Twenty minutes later you're walking out my door,
As I'm thinking about giving myself in to the police.

When we think back on that,
(Oh, I know you said forget. But can you?)
We'll remember it differently.
I don't know how you'll see it.

But for me...
It'll be the day I broke the most important promise I ever made, To myself, and to you.

And now... that the fire has died... our rope mere dust in the wind... I sit in the darkness, where I belong.

Holding another match.