When Friendship Dies

Is there a word for the feeling that comes when you realise a friendship is dying? Something that compares to the vacuum of warmth?

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As friendship dies, the ties fold like a noose,
Originally loose to hang ourselves, and delves between us,
Every step closer to battle, we rattle the knot and clot the seeping tears.
Our weeping fears are what blocks and puts us on stocks for the world to see.

We were parted by time and space, but the race kept going,
Slowing only when we missed what we wished for.
The score can never be odd or even now, not after how no one kept count,
Dismount your steed, I plead don’t reap this seed, it is evil.

To deny my thoughts and feelings is like stealing what I own,
But to moan or mumble would rumble what bonds we have left,
This theft will make or break tension,
Not to mention all else that will fall from us all.

So before you fire that gun, I beg you, run and get another fix,
I’ll meet you on the River Styx and we will find our kicks before we’re buried,
Charon will ferry as we get shit-faced and merry, but only once for this trip,
As friendship dies, a part of me dies, and you feel it too, it’s true,

I mean, look at you.

Sometimes she writes. Sometimes she doesn’t. Either way, she’s not doing what she’s supposed to be doing.

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