This time, it was I who were young
In terms of age.
We were oil and water
Air and fire, combustion.
But it wouldn’t have worked out.
I wasn’t looking for money or safety
I was looking for a mentor
I was looking for a reminder of a parent
But I forgot how in their words, you’d expect
To find hurt.
That which you wouldn’t hear from a lover.
I was immature
But thank you for seeding anger within
Through the first wave of hit upon my cheek
Thank you for slapping me the second time,
For your friends ignoring this too,
It sowed a deep depth of insecurity
So that I have something to climb out from one day.
Thank you for still being a Friend.