Midnight Fight

‘Friends.’ Cold chills shoot through her veins.

It used to be synonymous with love.

Now, it’s what she evades it to stay sane,

The very thing she’s the antithesis of.

 

If betrayal were a disease, she would be dead.

For her childhood knew no loyalty.

If friends were the kings, then off with her head.

Such is the nature of illegitimate royalty.

 

For as long as she could remember, she was obsessed,

With the notion of having her own best friend.

The desire controlled her - a fragile young mess,

Oblivious to the wounds to which she’d have to tend.

 

As a lion quietly stalks on his prey,

So, her pseudo-friends surprised her in the night.

With words written on daggers, they sliced were she lay,

Before she had the chance to put up a fight.

 

She begged and pleaded with despair in her eyes,

But even then, someone slashed at her lip.

Choking on blood, she let out a sickly cry,

Her bloodshot eyes closed, into a coma she slipped.

 

Shortly thereafter, her nights became lonely,

She would simply cry herself into a spell-like slumber.

But not before glaring at the scars and moaning,

In a sea of depression that had pulled her under.

 

Away from her family, away from this pain,

She isolated herself in her mind.

She barred the doors and clicked every chain,

The next several months, a blur in time.

 

Neither family nor foe batted an eye,

For she only appeared well on the outside.

No one could see her facade was a lie,

For a part of her already had died.

 

It is times like these in which we grow weak,

Our human race is sustained for only so long.

Thus, where sticks and stones cannot even reach,

We penetrate others’ emotions, all self-respect gone.

 

We prey on the weak, the trusting and helpless,

The innocent, the naïve and their timidness.

We pretend to be their friends; for a season, we’re selfless,

Before we unleash the mask of our wickedness.

 

As I see friend betray friend, nation betray nation,

And people betray people, in a whirlwind of fury.

I remember that girl, locked away in insolation,

I pray that through her coma, she can still hear me.

 

As these prayers go up, they land on my soul.

A little bit startled, I start asking, “Why me?”

Then I remember and tremble in the cold,

The girl was me, running from deceit.

 

And with that I awoke, the bed was still stained,

But something was different about the air.

‘The sky, it is peaceful.’ I thought with disdain,

‘To me,’ I thought, ‘irony never was fair.’

 

As I opened the window, the prayer was there,

Staring and watching, it stood slightly aloof.

Very annoyed, I simply just glared,

Not knowing whether or not this was a spoof.

 

It spoke to me in a very soft voice,

“Please, stop waging a war you can’t win.

Be still for a second, hear through the noise

You must learn what is means to love again.”

 

And just like that, the prayer disappeared,

It dissolved into the twilight gust.

I inhaled the warmth, it still felt near.

I promised myself, “I’ll do what I must”

 

I sat there in darkness, waiting for sunrise

Contemplating the mysteries of the night

Though the scars were fresh, I couldn’t help but surmise

This was only the beginning of the fight.