The Soldier (the best friend)

There were days where
even the sun couldn't reach your smile.
The shower water couldn't
rinse away the happy tears,
of times that mattered,
of times that could be remembered.

I am youth trapped within an aging soul,
my skin has worn and stretched,
my veins no longer shadowed.
It hurts me that I miss you.

I should hate you, I should,
for the nights where alcohol was not
the cause of my sadness,
for the betrayal that you so carelessly
sung out like a ballad.

I was your soldier,
the one who marched on when the
battle was too strong -
but even soldiers fall down,
sometimes they don't make it home.

And what is to be done, I ask,
when the one standing over their grave
is not the enemy, not the evil at the opposing gate.
What is to be done, when an ally stands by their side,
holds their hand tight,
and stabs them in the back.

Yes, even soldiers fall down too.