Still Hurts

I look down

the floor isn’t particularly interesting

but still, I

believe it to be preferable

to seeing you.

My vision blurs

my hands cover my ears

I look ridiculous

but this beats having to

listen to you.

My lungs shrivel

I can’t really breathe anymore

Oxygen won’t enter

I don’t feel safe here;

because of you.

I wonder when

my vision of you shifted

I guess that

best friends won’t always mean

“Best Friends Forever”.

Were you always

capable of destroying my trust?

Or was I

blind to the glaring faults

You’d always displayed.

My vision clears

I can see you properly

I see you

The ugly, disgusting, horrible you

The real you.

You probably didn’t

think I would be affected

Why should it?

You didn’t hurt me, but

it still hurts.