was I the one?

what I want to know is

was it my fault?

was I the one who

threw the final stone

that knocked you

off the cross and

into the compost

the one who dipped

and filled my bucket

again and again

desperate for more of you?

was I the one who

convinced you

I wasn’t reliable

wouldn’t show up

when it really mattered?

was I the one who

scraped you away

from the scene

where you stood on

the precipice

ready and willing?

the one who instead

led you down into

the garbage heap

where you still sit

and sift through

the millennia of shrinking

stinking sopping trash

imagining here you will

find the clue that erases

feeling small

and insignificant

wasted buried gone?

was I the one you

turned to

reached for

as I ran the other way

turned the corner on you

turned as soon as I

caught the yellow

of your jacket

made a left turn

because I knew you

were headed right?

was I the one who

told you to jump?

who told you not to?

was I the one?