the worst thing you did
on paper,
I am the villain
in her perfect fairy tale
when I was alone
she left town with her real people,
her tribe
when I was scared about the pandemic
my son going around with his friends during the lockdown
she made me feel small
hyping up the mandates, her children followed the rules to the letter,
they never went out, they masked up
(but. they didn’t.)
I needed you to make me feel okay
it’s not my fault
but you chose to be fauci’s talking points
I don’t care about your lies anymore
the worst thing you could ever do to me is make me feel alone, while you joined the mandate-following, jabbed-up crowd
when you knew what it was like to be me,
to be us
if it were up to you
I’d be six feet under,
your ever-loving cross to bear,
the one you brush off for parties
so people can say, “oh what a good friend you were”