By Chelsea Hemenway
I call you my best friend,
And you call me yours.
But with the stuff that goes on,
Can I really be sure?
We used to laugh,
Together and loud.
Now you laugh alone,
With your *friends on a cloud*.
I'm met with harsh words
When I try to speak.
You think it's a joke,
But it really cuts deep.
Pay no attention
To the girl in your locket
But it all goes to *those
Who can fit in your pocket*.
When you want a hug,
I'm open-armed willingly,
But when I'd like one
You simply just yell at me.
"I'm not gay."
"Don't touch me."
"Get away."
"Can't hug me."
Can't you see that these phrases
all hurt me?
You call attention to your own anxiety,
But think of my own as inpropriety.
You've seen mine in action
As I have seen yours,
But still mine is incredulous
While yours is "stupendulous."
Am I really your friend?
The question rings inside,
Or am I a pitiful soul,
A dare,
A challenge?
To talk shit about me to the others you've scavenged?
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Friends on a cloud: Online Friends
Those who can fit in your pocket: A Phone
YOU ARE READING
Poems Collection
PoetryCollection of my poems, and poems that I love. I will put the writer's name at the top of the page so ya'll know who it is. Happy Reading!
