crazy
I bet you tell them I was crazy,
an ill mind raged with ill thoughts since a child, blonde hair with red rage at the world for it's ridiculous treatment of her mind, body, and soul.
And you would be right,
I am crazy, crazy for thinking that our nearly five years of friendship would mean something to you.
That the tears were shed over the hell we faced and the love we shared during it would make you understand, that my love is worth the battle as I would care for the ones I adore with every broken bone in my body.
My mother said I would be a good nurse,
"You take such good care of me, and everyone you meet."
You abused that trait my mother adored so much, using me when you were down, ridden with brain based illness, but too careless to help me when I struggled, feeling like you were "walking on eggshells" around me, worried that if you said something I would go and take enough pills that time and I would no longer be there for you to use and abuse because it was easy, because I'm crazy.
