Fate Fell Short

He asks if I feel guilty.
Consequently suggesting,
It’s a byproduct of the hatred
I’ve been swallowing
Now daily.
And I’m drawn back
To the weight sitting on my chest
Heaving mightily
This bubble like
Stress induced
Anxiety,
It catches my breath so steadily.
As it begins to eat the rest of me.
But I can’t help thinking
Of his feet swaying.
And it hurt me more than he was hurting
To see him hanging.
He was careless
To anticipate a forgiveness
When his actions were
Poorly forged to dismiss
his attendance.
And the consequences
Of his own choices
Were passed down to me.
Left too irrelevant
To change a thing.
To say fate rules our lives,
Is to say fate fell short that night.

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