You sprout up unexpectedly,
like unwanted weeds in the spring.
Your friendship a lie,
for weeks of my life,
a lie I fell for every time.

You demand my affection,
repayment for your generosity.
I could never give
what I didn’t have,
and like autumn leaves,
you turned on me.

You’d lash out like the summer sun
then fade before the fall.
You lay dormant in the winter,
and when spring returned,
you’d call.

You’d call me selfish.
Try harder.
I’ve been called much worse than that.

I resist your persistence,
despite your insistence
that you always knew best.

It says much more about you,
with your many falls and passing moons.
why are you chasing
a girl so young and so new?

I’ve since named you my perennial ex:
Any other name is an insult to weeds.