Mistakes

This is a poem I am writing early in the morning because I had a fight with my friend and I can't find any other way to apologize. I am sorry Iris.

What have I become? A monster of my own desire to feel strong. Yet every single time, I make something wrong. Because I have so much at stake, when I know who they are. Even when she is gone, she does not feel so far. I need to feel the strength she gives, when no emotion is shown. Yet when I respond, she knows a better man, I have not grown. It is not my wish, to be so bad. She was one of the best friends I have ever had. Yet why am I so wrong, when all I want is to feel strong? Do I truly need her, to feel right? If so, am I such a sad sight? To know that I cannot feel important on my own, without her to tell me my meaning has grown. It is not a wish, but a promise to make. That until she is my friend, myself I shall hate. For the bond one makes, you cannot break. I make mistakes, just like everybody else. But how can I forgive myself? Knowing her pain, is what makes hell seem worth it. Knowing her pain, is like feeling a million hits. A hit to the heart, a hit to the soul. A hit sending me straight into a hole. A hole of despair, for which I belong. A monster of inner jealousy, for which I sing a song. One that never ends, and never begins. One that proves that no one ever wins. How can one win, when your prize is the very thing you are against? This is the strongest pain I can sense. I am the one, to beg on my knees, to ask a dear friend, for forgiveness, please.

Author's Note

This is meant for a friend.