Friends come and go
like water flowing through a river,
but there was one, old friend Liz.
She intoxicated me to my liver.
My old friend Liz
was a demon back then.
She’d throw rocks at windows.
She stole my favorite pen.
I had hated Liz,
not knowing why I stuck with her.
But Liz offered me comfort,
like I was wrapped in warm fur.
Liz and I became friends.
I honestly don’t know why.
But she started acting nice,
so I hoped she didn’t lie
I fell in love with Liz,
though she was a bit off track.
We stole her father’s car,
a shining gray new Cadillac.
I married her,
my old friend Liz.
We eloped to Florida,
her hair showing signs of frizz.
Liz started being loud.
Things started to go missing.
My wallet, my phone, my pack of cigs.
Gone was also the chance of kissing.
Liz divorced me.
I don’t know why.
Turned out she was a demon,
an old friend was just a disguise.
I went back to the neighborhood.
I told them Liz was gone.
None of them were in shock.
They knew she used me as a pawn.
I apologized to the neighbor.
I did the same to her dad.
I returned the shining gray Cadillac,
that still didn’t make him any less sad.