Red Hands, Black Heart

• Rhylee Hunt, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2014

Never would I have thought that I'd never call you a friend. It was me and you today, me and you tomorrow, me and you forever, a bond so close that it planted a seed of envy into people's hearts.
How wrong was I to believe so, nothing lasts forever.
My resisting eyes strive to make the ocean kiss the sky, but what is left is the guilt that makes me turn my back in shame.
Like a knife forged of pain cutting us into fragments, shredding what we had into segments of the joy I once held so closely.
But all of that is gone, washed away by a sea of greed If only I wished for a forewarn, then maybe all of this wouldn't of occurred, maybe I wouldn't of felt so torn.
In the past things were simpler, me and you, we were nothing more than two kids preoccupied by our copious imaginations, nothing less.
Yet to greet you today feels like a weight on my shoulders, the words come out, but they mean nothing, meaningless. I am too apprehensive to dip my toe into the cold, isolated water of the future because I can tell that my senseless hellos and your unwanted replies will soon be the last words we will ever speak to each other.
And it terrifies me to think about that, but sometimes I don't know whether I truly care enough.
I try ever so hard to pretend you don't exist, drowning you out until my grief is all but a small caged animal bound in my head.
But when faced with you, I crumble, no matter how much I repent I am too weak to look you in the eye.
To weak to assure you that I never stopped caring.
I am guilty, my hands are red, my heart blackened with sorrow.
I am truly sorry.