There was a time 
when our friendship meant something, 
when we stood tall, 
facing the world together. 

I conquered the doubters 
with you by my side. 
I entrusted you with my secrets, 
entrusted with my life. 
Nothing could come between 
our sisterly souls. 

But then the world changed 
before our eyes, 
and my trivial opinions 
were likened to a penny’s worth 
You took them as an offense, 
as if I ripped out your heart and crushed it. 

When I spoke my mind, 
I believed it to be insignificant,  
such as thoughts about a favorite movie star. 
Yet it destroyed every memory, 
anything that made us best friends. 
All of it gone.  

With a snap of a finger. 
I was declared a hostile threat, 
an atrocity before your eyes. 

Your irrational fear revealed itself: 
it became the kind you’d see 
in Vietnam soldiers tangled up 
in the jungle, afraid of their own shadow, 
their demons of war, 
politicians, 
runaway hippies, 
and one another. 

The villainous PTSD whispering paranoia, 
gripped innocent families through icy cold hands of depression. 
Its possessive, monstrous anger strangled 
their souls and ruined families. 

But this isn’t Vietnam; 
this is me. 
The one who sacrificed everything, 
time and existence,  
to sew us together again. 

Even after you came to 
from the fires of your ego, 
I believed we could move on and live 
forever as best friends. 

But sometimes sorry isn’t enough, 
and people don’t change. 
Your demons became your true colors, 
turning you into a toxic wasteland. 

This is why sometimes friendships 
don’t last for eternity, 
when what we were becomes 
a fleeting vapor in the wind. 

Editor: Shannon Hensley