I didn’t mean
for it to end—
not like this,
not my best friend.

The anger came,
too fast, too loud.
Now I dig
and whisper proud.

We laughed that night,
like always did—
talked of dreams
and stupid kids.

But I held hurt
behind my grin—
a thousand cuts
he’d sliced within.

He didn’t know
how deep they went,
how words can bruise,
how time gets spent.

One glass too much,
a shove, a shout—
and all those ghosts
came pouring out.

I saw the fear
flash in his eyes,
too late to stop,
too late for "why’s."

"I’m sorry"
won’t bring him back.
But still,
I say it
to the cracks.

The ground is cold,
my hands are red.
And silence speaks
where he once said:

"You’re my brother,
through it all."
Now I just
recall the fall.

No court, no cell
can cage me in—
just memory,
and what has been.

Don’t Look Back

I shouldn't have walked home alone—
The street feels colder than I’ve known.

Footsteps echo, not just mine,
I glance behind but see no sign.

My keys shake quiet in my hand,
A voice once warned, “Don’t trust the man.”

My chest is tight, my pace is fast,
I pray each step won’t be my last.

I want to scream, but nothing comes.
My thoughts are loud, my body numb.

Please, not tonight—not like this.
I just want home. I just want peace.