Mediocre never looked so nice

Our friendship appears fleeting
Anger often crashes down
in a sea of hostility
But the tide will recede,
like it always does
Leaving faint marks in the sand
and salt on our toes

I never thought I would be left unscathed
but I didn’t know I would bruise this bad
I still bite my tongue
and swallow my thoughts.
Defending you to the death
Mine, not yours

Tilt sideways, my words tower above
yet leave gaps and spaces
between nouns and verbs
for doubt to hide, and breed
now there are more of them than me.

But even after all this,
the bruise you left never hurt more
until you walk out that door.

this must be what it feels like to get used.