Permanent

The cavity is filled with worry and doubt Maybe they didn’t need me, want me, care for me like I thought A dull ache that doesn’t leave. It persists and makes itself known. I know I’m alone. I know I’ve been left. I know all this and I still try to win my friends back. The idea of not being friends anymore can’t form as an actual thought. The idea is a jumble of weeds in a once perfect garden. A garden I was so secure in that I didn’t believe- even imagine- this could ever happen. So I cry. The hot tears fall down my cheeks. Every night they come and blanket my face till I succumb to sleep. And eventually, I realize, I can- no have to- move on And I try And I do And I realize never to make the mistake of believing in something so temperamental .