Landslide

If friends are real

they can apologize.

If friends are there

they can talk it out.

If friends care

they can 

forgive.
 

It makes no 

sense

that friendships 

hurt.

That they always

seem to

b r e a k.

Bitterness.

Blindness.

Blame.

Why can something so 

good be so full 

of pain?
 

Cascades like a

landslide 

momentum ever gaining
 

down

down

down

Nothing but dust remains.