I am not a particularly neat person, but I am incredibly clean. From time to time I like purge my life of all things I no longer want to look at. Tonight, I purged my computer files (oh, how I love doing that..) and low and behold I found some old poems! Most of them just made me laugh, but this one? I found this one! Enjoy, friends.
A friend is a friend…
Until you define the term:
Someone who sticks around
When things aren’t sugar and peaches;
And someone who says the same things to your face
As they whisper to the sky
When your back meets their eyes.
Some people never change
Even though the years fly by,
And sometimes people repeat and repeat and repeat
The chatter of their high school dreams;
And silently, so silently you try to keep quiet as you scream,
“Homecoming was 62 years ago at my most and at your least.
And just like high school, you are stuck in a swamp of those who don’t and want to be,
You’re covered with the absent compliments spoken by those
Who absently proclaim without ever thinking.
Oh if I could only fill the room,
Fill the room to the brim
With all the nauseating compliments
That lack a heart but make perfect sense.
Community is based upon the tone in your voice and the clothes on your chest;
But these clothes cover the heart
Because we dare ridicule the passion unveiled when the mask comes off
And the brand names are removed.
If I could only fill an ocean
Oh I could fill an ocean with all the times someone thought I was something I was not
Merely based upon an absent, unending, unfeeling, and passionless judgment.
I’ve confused you enough for you to label me unclean,
Because I lack the material to be accepted into your world
Of cosmopolitan and empty beauty.
But I still try and please you.
So I fill my vocabulary with meaningless words
That drive me up the wall,
Because I just want to fit in with your crowd,
I desire to reach the place of uninhibited acceptance,
Like I do when you are talking only to my face.
When you know me one on one, you know me to the full,
But when it comes to standing in a room with her and her and him and him,
Suddenly, I need more.
And you are who I am here for,
So I disappear into the cycle of conformity
Until I decide I don’t need you to like me.
A knife is a knife
Until it’s in your back.
It’s not the first time I’ve been stabbed.
But it’s the first time I’ve decided to let someone else be your walking ground,
I’ve tired of laying my body down.
A friend is a friend.
Until you define the term.
The term is the antithesis of you.