My freshly washed hair is still damp against my scalp <br />Bound by a plastic jaw with a squeaky hinge <br />In a knot that’s so tight it feels my ears are pulled back. <br /> <br />The air conditioning hums innocently, oblivious <br />To the tiny goose bumps raised along my nutty brown arms <br />And the hum in my head switches to a dull throb. <br /> <br />So many questions and half finished sentences <br />Swim frantically searching for a shore to lie panting on <br />They’re being chased by accusations waiting to attack. <br /> <br />There’s a fair dose of guilt waiting in the wings <br />Tallying up the who hurt whom, how much and why <br />To figure when exactly this friendship became a job. <br /> <br />It’s not you, it’s me, and we’ve grown apart slowly <br />The lines sound hollow, they won’t fit this time <br />Cowardice suggests walking away as a simple option. <br /> <br />I think why not confront instead, spill out the things <br />That I’ve left unsaid, clenching teeth, faking smiles <br />When I’d rather just have shaken her by the shoulders. <br /> <br />All those random words crowd my mind as I hear <br />My fingernails clicking against the keyboard <br />And slowly my anger gives way to gumption. <br /> <br />I don’t want to end this connection on a bad note <br />Let irritation ruin a symphony of good times <br />Strew this path with a series of emotional boulders. <br /> <br />So I swallow my rage and instead calm my thoughts <br />With rationalisations about longing and loneliness <br />And how an emptiness was trying to be filled. <br /> <br />I feel generous even though it weighs on me <br />And I sigh with regret about my decision <br />To let this grudge trudge on, instead of it being killed. <br /> <br />(Office, June 17,2006)<br /><br />Simona Terron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-we-re-not-friends-anymore/
