‘Barbie doll agony’

was what you called it
when I said I understood
how you felt.

You told me how your problems
were bigger and more important.
It was an insult
to say I understood.
I was the closest thing to a friend you had,
but I wasn’t even that.

You told me about your plan
to use me and throw me away.
You explained how I was shallow,
and useless,
and not worth your precious time.
The cicadas in the trees
hummed through the hot summer air,
and I sat there
while you destroyed me.

You told me how life
had to be filled to the brim
with passion,
and art,
and freedom,
and meaning.

And I told you
to take all those things
and choke on them.

To this day,
I still believe
it was the only thing
I ever did right with you.