The Seeing Follow the Blind

I have a friend who was there for a boy in her life,
who gave her his words, his past, his almost-future.
The grass around their feet could have held them together,
were it not for his wandering thoughts and meaningless words.
The burning hate I feel towards him is unrivalled
and yet I feel completely distanced and disconnected
because he is wandering, stumbling, falling through life,
just like I am,
but in such a way that damages the trail of girls behind him.

One after the other, one after another - I can feel their hearts shatter
from where I am in my room alone.
I can taste the grief running down their shallow cheeks,
their make up black and dark and now twisted with the scars of yet
another boy and his self-indulgent attitude towards girls, girls, girls.
Blatant naivety shrouded with a dousing of “Oh, he’s just trying to
find His Place. He’ll come ‘round”, will not make things right,
it will only make things worse, it will only build the trail of the
far too kind and forgiving girls behind him as he fucks someone else
with not a blink of his blind eyes.

- a.c.