verse for evil done to a friend

Free and kind, she was open to me.
Summer dreamed only when holding hands.
Winter met in New York where we wrote
Postcards to future selves, never sent.

Innocence on her side bred in mine
That evolved, sicking beast, desire bent
Called not love, except in idleness,
My intent to possess a shapeless shade.

Shame and pride made me then pull away
Then she asked in my loft, early once,
Talk to me, what is wrong, is it me.

When she cried it was done to a stone
Emptied out, and I walked pity gone.

She forgave so I could hurt again.
Until years yielded one silent break.

Free and kind, but now closed off from me.
Though polite, seeming yet insincere.

Every time I came back she had changed,
And I mourned a lost friend long before
She was gone, until now I was lost.

This is what lonely boys always want.
Evil done to a friend is a cut
Deepening and mortal as a soul.

~ by Colonial Governor on 4 February 2007.