What Remains of a Life After High School

A Poem

Photo by Kian Mousazadeh on Unsplash

you saw it, didn’t you,
the way she tripped me
in the hallway
before bounding away
like a mischievous little bunny —
but she was a snake,
though they never talk about that

you heard the rumors —
how could you not? —
and I’d try to get my story
straight, just once,
but what’s the point
when you already believe her
through that plastic smile of hers

you thought you’d help —
but don’t be the savior
(we all know how that goes)
because who knows when you’ll fall
as the next prey-to-be,
a target on your back,
as friends become enemies

all the others just sit back and watch
while the world crumbles around them —
oh, what a sad species we are —
and I never knew a true friend
in those four years like a prison sentence