Imperfect friend part I

Friends don’t like friends who notice things,

Like…

That comfortable perch you have,

In a safe tree,

Paying your bills

No practice, just preach,

About everything you’re going to do,

How school or life failed you,

You’d be farther of not for x, y, or z.
But How does that explain me?
Some say I’m intelligent, with privilege to spare.

But when my shoes had holes, 

You weren’t there,

Choosing between a bus or food,

Saving everything I could,

With an optimistic attitude,

I would’ve been top of my class,

If I was ever in school,

But I didn’t even have the paper to prove what I could do.
Still, I made it work,

Never gave up, and I’m here,

Nothing’s perfect, I’m not without fear,

At least I’m moving forward,

That’s all I know how to do.
Unlike you.
And you could see what I do,

That I see through you,

Perhaps you think judgement was there,

But I just believed you could do better if you trusted yourself,

Does that make me unfair?

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Reflections

I see endless reflections of everything I’m not,

I’m not blonde or skinny,

Red headed with black lace panties,

My time is not set aside to objectify myself, for love or for money.

There are endless pictures that scroll by,
Endless words, vast numbers,

Worth is boiled down to heart icons and analytics, 

And not a single warm touch is near.

Support System

What’ll it be?

Some glittery tears?

You lean on me,

Until I ease your fears.
But I sink down,

Slowly still,

To the ground below,

But no one knows.
It goes unseen

I’m good you see,

At hiding these

Unsavory deeds.

Unhelpful emotion,

Salty like the ocean,

Invites you in,

But there’s no way to win.
So what’ll it be?

Some powerful words? 

I’ve got them all,

Sweetness you never heard.

Eyes

I remember distinctly one day,

Speaking about something so mundane ,

When I looked you in the eye,

And I stuttered, I cannot lie.

You say brown eyes are common things,

Not special, nothing we haven’t seen.

But I fall for twinkles, not colors in eyes,

And I saw the dreams and endless skies.

I caught my breath and looked away,

And finished whatever I was saying, now changed.

Threads

There’s a thousand threads

All tangled up

No bows or sailors knots

Just jagged, tight ties and seemingly infinite loops.

You can’t tell where each thread goes;

Some to loss

Some to love

To friendship, pain, your past and future.

One goes to you

And I cannot tell where it stops.
People are like tangled threads

You can see the size and color, and even the immediate length. 

But you don’t know where it goes

Or where it stops.

A small step

It would be a small step to some

Like going to summer camp for the first time.

Not to me though. We don’t all go to summer camp.

Just as I never thought I would muddle my way through the questions I didn’t even know how to form, to find even a single answer that would set me on my path.

We all have personal challenges. We all should recognize that what’s easy to some may not be easy for others.

This is my challenge.

This is yours.

Sorry 

There’s a number of reasons why I apologize all the time.

Feelings are like black glass. You can’t always see through them, as though solid, they break easily. I’m so aware of this, that I cringe at the idea that I’ve cracked anyone’s glass even accidentally. It’s something that shames me at the thought.

Feelings are also amorphous and changing; they may seem obvious but are up to interpretation. And rather than getting it wrong, it’s vastly easier to fill the silence between the emotion and it’s meaning with “I’m sorry.”
Lastly, however, and most damanging to the reflective; feelings are not equations, and cannot be easily understood. My anger and reasons behind it are never obvious to others who can’t see any perspective but their own. So then they get mad I’m mad, because they assume I have no reason for it, and then they don’t understand. 

Sometimes I’m so tired of explaining I can’t form words to fight back. I can’t explain what I think should be obvious. So I settle for keeping the peace and keeping it to myself:

“I’m sorry.”