(hey i'm doing the poetry thing again)
i sit here,
in a fort in the corner of a room,
typing away, can you hear me?
no, no you can't.
of course not, i hit the keys too softly.
but i'm still here,
and while i'm here i can hear you.
i can hear everything you're saying.
i stick my head out and I can see the attention
that you're not paying.
you stare at a tv saying i have no social life,
but i live out that life online.
you turn to her and another insult escapes your mouth.
are these jokes to you?
yes, you think they're harmless, silly.
i have to disagree.
i speak, poking my head out for you to see,
something goes wrong, you blame me
and though it's minor it happens too much.
small things, garbage you left out, such and such.s
i speak.
can you hear me?
yes you can.
are you listening to me?
no,
you can't, can you?
why?
is it too much to think you might be wrong?
you think being strong means pulling others down,
but you are too far below me
to even try to reach.
you speak.
i can always hear you,
and i'm listening.
