I’m the one in the back of the book, a sudden recollection of a stranger.
Creeping into your subconscious, a memory, faint, fading away.
How could I forget you? The gun to my head, I heard myself say,
"What kind of luck is this? Guess I get to live to see another day."
As indifferent as I’ve been over the years, I think
I’ve forgiven you for that mess you made of my mind.
Yes, high school’s a horror story, but I’d rather see myself
forgotten than remembered as your antagonist.
We were friends, or so we thought ourselves to be.
Because we both know you lied that time you said
you’d make sure your friends were safe. You were careless
with us, didn't think of the damage your actions would cause.
All you wanted, was for everyone to see your rage,
and I’m guilty of listening without an ear of seriousness.
Luck is a convenience that helped me keep my life that evening.
Your so called solution, was ending the world,
the saddest part is, all you did was end yourself.
