atlas couldn't give up (but i'm glad i could)

i told my mom how i needed a tragic story for college applications

and she reminded me of you

see, it’s been so long since i missed you

since i considered you

since i cried for you

you were the best and worst person in my life

always saying you were there for me but never coming

making promises through tight teeth

tongue leaking syllables without meaning

i used to write poems about how thankful i was for you

my best friend

how i thought you made me happy

but people shouldn’t depend on others to feel

now i wonder what you’ve even done for me

i remember listening to your grievances on those long nights when you were drunk

excuse me, tipsy

but i don’t think you ever heard mine

my phone burned hot from hours of use and the words i couldn’t interject

i’d forgotten how much i felt like you didn’t care

how i was the atlas in our friendship and you were the weighty world

i held you on my shoulders and never once did a complaint pass my red lipstick lips

but then you started to crumble and i realized the futility, the utility, of our friendship

and unlike atlas, i set you down and walked away

and thus you became my tragic story