The Lost Friend

You know, usually, losing contact with someone is just something that I deal with. Sometimes it just happens. Due to circumstances, fate, or something more complex, I merely failed to keep in touch with someone. Be it a friend I made whilst on a trip, or an old friend lost to the years and miles.

But he keeps on bothering me.

I mean, we kind of really bonded. I actually told him details about my life, about my feelings, things that were bothering me. I don't know why, exactly...some people just slip into my heart. So easily. I could actually be myself around him. Unlike with everyone else there, whose hatred I am so terrified of...

And now his is added to the list.

Freaking Me Out

This addiction, rooted deep within my consciousness

brings jitters inside when removed so

unnecessarily.

I need it I need it I need it

it has such sway over me

though many times I refuse to acknowledge its power

Though I know

I can quit

like I have before

these are things I don't want to be rid of.

When you know you could text someone

when you know that contact is wanted

yet you cannot supply it

cannot give in to it

it's such a lonely feeling

of isolation

When you watch them using

something you cannot

it's such a lonely feeling

scratching at my insides

desire making me antsy

and yet

nothing changes

Am I

Am I not allowed to

Am I not allowed to

Am I not allowed to

Speak

Trouble

When there are troubles on your chest,

it is always best

to express them

to those dear to you

and the silence is haunting

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry that I got comfortable around you

without the usual mask of reality upon my face, heart, and soul

after spending one month together

I'm sorry for believing you

when you said that you actually liked me

and that everyone else did too

I'm sorry for so easily falling into the façade

of being such close friends

and being there for each other

I'm sorry for not being like sheep

and acting like everyone else,

fawning over each and every move

of each and every person

and spicing up your life with sarcasm

I'm sorry that I wasn't entertaining enough

I'm sorry that I was under the delusion that we were all friends

that we were all having fun

that we were all enjoying ourselves

I'm sorry that the "real me"

wasn't good enough for you

didn't please you the right way

didn't make you smile every day like you wanted it to

I'm sorry to hear that

my fear has been confirmed;

you all secretly hated me

all along;

despite those reassuring words

my "bff" spouted out to me

It's nice to know

they were all lies.

We

We want to be the exception

we want to be the special one, the only one

We want to be

the best we can be

the most of the most

living with what we're given to the best of our ability

rolling with the punches

taking each opportunity that presents itself

in order to move ourselves forward

into a better, brighter future.

Do you?

Am I annoying?

Do you hate me?

You do, don't you?

That's why your reply was so succinct. So short. So insufficient. It's because you don't really give a fuck about me, because you don't really care, because, really, underneath all that caring, you despise me.

That's why you didn't reply to me. That's why you stopped following me on Twitter. That's why you posted those words that keep carving into my heart that I refuse to allow to stop carving into me. Why didn't you cut all connections?

Poison

I am eating the poison of these words, again and again, just as you did, years ago

"No one really liked you. Grow up. You know? Something you should've done when you were my age."

Though I feel pathetic for letting this pain get to me

get to me it does

and it starts to tear into me from the inside out,

beginning at the center of my core, my heart,

burning its way out, slowly

Things are building up like the pressure of water against a dam

and I can't help but think

that everything happens for a reason

this rush of pain, all of it

it's happening for a reason.

Though I know not its course.

Fear, insecurity, foolishness

How could I have trusted them?

How could I have thought I meant anything to them?

When I confided my fears, the story of my life, to her,

what did I expect in return?

Why should she open up to me?

Why should she lean on me?

I deserve not to be leaned upon.

This time,

the breaking was done to me.

I broke nothing.

Why did I think they would understand my unspoken directions

my misdirected pleas?

I was becoming vicious, uncharacteristically so, because

something was wrong.

Could you not see that?

No.

You labeled me as a troll,

though I wanted to be sweet,

bitterness is all that flowed.

I need to escape,

escape into reality.

Yet I cannot.

I am left here with nothing but my thoughts

my insecurities

and the burden of a secret on my chest,

eating away at me, in my reality

Are you out there?

Are you okay?

I'll never know.

You labeled me as troll
and so a troll I shall be