Acquaintances

Turn away and walk.
Your jokes were funny for a while.
Trashed the conference hall, but my point couldn’t hit home.
Not for you at least.

I blanked out, while you blathered your thoughts.
Your jokes used to make sense, now they make you seem like a jerk.

Rubbed me wrong, keep your goals aligned.
My point didn’t come across the way I wanted.

Pals we were, shared few words.
You said, “No grudges here.”
The coffee spot is tainted with your lie.

We’re acquaintances now.

Pathetic, my anger keeps blooming.
I hate it that it was you, truly.

Some cuts stay permanent on your arms.
Turn away and walk.

No drugs for me.
We’re acquaintances from now.

Cellophane between your hand and mine, a diplomatic act for the other fools in the tower.

Acquaintances never cower from their past, they march their way through their snakes and ladders.