The Ladder of Blasphemy

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They were friends once, or so she said but the air was laced with pretence...

And we slowly began to inhale.

She was an artist, of secrets and lies, painting apparitions of perfection.  We stood on the ground and lived, among our lessons and mistakes.  We watched as she ascended above, on a ladder, of misguided friendship and broken hearts.  So we moved and opened the door on forgiveness, as friends...

But nothing changed.

What song of contempt, did she sing in her heart, coating the walls with fresh hatred?  Only the prettiest and best knife would do, to cut her with her words.  They were friends once but never in the dirty cloud, of your depression...

That was just a rung in her ladder.

And then one night, she looked down from what she had become and wounded you with blasphemy.  "Selfish!"  She cried, to justify her climb.  Then you were gone, there was a hole in our house, where your glow had been...

But only I noticed.

They were friends once, or so she said but you will never be...

A part of any ladder, of blasphemy.