thoughts...

Crossed Spirit
I decided to hate you for one day.
Actually, less than that cause I knew;
Or rather, I thought it'd end by night.
I shot icy bolts at your warm advances
Thinking, again, that it'd end tonight.
When I could become a friend again.
I knew what happened, created a facade.
Shrouded myself in angsty mist of books;
Of formula, of number, of graph.
I glanced at the wall clock. It was 10.
I braced myself; and yet the first plan failed.
Plan B. I was well-received, yet not completely.
Found that you were then no longer there.
It might be a small, pointless issue
But it doesn't destroy the guilt.
It remains there, formless, negatively empty.

I'm sorry. I know now that that was really something I shouldn't have done.
In fact now thinking over it I forgot about this possibility. I made an assumption that I thought reasonable though, apparently, not.

jk