Pages

Sara Grant's poem captures the moment of betrayal in a diary read and a friendship written.

by Sara Grant

w8qqn1pmqh0-ben-white

You searched my expression

As you reached towards me,

Wounded.

You managed to mouth, ‘I forgive you.’

And something else, and something else.

 

Ten and a half months

Of plain speaking pages,

From tepid to twisted

And painfully optimistic,

Sat, sunken in your palm.

 

Your fingers had followed the flow

Of my biro,

Swerving

Towards the full stop

On our friendship.

 

I’d caught you at it.

And you’d caught me out.

Now nothing could be done

To undo what I’d said

In the notebook beside my bed.

 



Sara Grant | Instagram: @Lustforwords

Sara Grant is a content writer by day and a flash fiction writer by night.