my index finger has a thin stripe of paleness abmist the bronze, a remainder of the only friendship i had i thought i deserved
she was cruel, but a good liar
forever tricking me into believing she was my best friend and that i was hers
giving me gifts to seduce me into believing i wasn’t trapped, wasn’t captured like a fish on a hook, minutes away from death
she gave me a mood ring
isn’t it funny how it was always green when i was with her?
one day, i unhooked my lips and swam away
pierced and bleeding, but alive
the ring came off, memories with her faded until they were gray
like the center of the mood ring that sits in my desk, growing grayer with dust and time away
sometimes, i imagine it flickers green when i think of her
a flash of envy until it grays over again.