the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights
strips the falling snow of its beauty.
happy sMiles all around, yet i cannot
seem to find within myself the
perfect guise to conceal how
i feel inside.

the glow of the fAmed
golden arches casts a
pallor that allows each of us to
hide behind it, put up our
barriers meant to keep
reality out.

our weekly riTual, with stories
and gossip, and who's dating who?
mindless chatTer to cover up.
all of us really hiding in shadow,
covering our lies and our doubt.
each of us regretting our greatest mistake.
and then mine walks in the door.
if looks could kill, he'd
be dead on the floor.

animosity radiates,
my hatred for him boiLing over,
spilling onto the trash-littered floor,
weaving its way through people,
around tables, until he feels it
like a pair of eyes on the back of his neck,
and he knows that i am hEre.

and i know that he thinks less of me,
because i won't forgive him,
and i won't spEak to him.
news flash, babe.
the door swings both ways.
you don't have the guts to look me in the
eyes, because you know deep down in
your heard that you screwed up.
and i have every right to hate you
like i do.