You hate me
I hate you
I thought we’d long understood this
I thought we knew
But seeing your words
About your feelings for him
Struck me unexpectedly
As I read the poem
I read the words
I felt the rage
I resisted the urge
To throw at you, that crumpled page
I knew the meaning
As all who read it will
I remembered the times
My feelings you killed
Of course I suspected
But I brushed it aside
It was always your talent
Getting your feelings to hide
You always conveniently had
Crushes on my men
But that was our secret
Well, at least it was then
And now all will know
As will he
Though you say it never
Could possibly be
But seeing your words
Still makes me wonder:
Were you ever really my friend?
Or just out to steal my thunder?