In the end
My friends hated you and
With good reason

In my quest for justice
I poured them the hot tea
When our home had become cold

I am not sorry for speaking to those willing to listen
I am sorry that I was not always fair to your side of the story

My friends weren’t there
When I was practicing
My best offense
On your ego

My friends did not
Take the knife
When it called out to me
Like a siren

We are no saints
There will be no stained glass window
Erected in remembrance of this

Blessed is the woman who learns from her mistakes
Blessed is the woman who survives a man who doesn’t