Amissis amicis

I wear my thoughts on my sleeves,

like they're always on the edge,

I bare my thoughts plainly like an ageing welcome mat,

openly walked on without change,

I have this friend, his name is Mark,

he talks about himself so much,

with the occasional "how are you though?",

I do not believe him when he chooses to listen,

In those small moments of thought, his at it again.

I have this friend, Jane,

when she calls I'm the butt end of her jokes, using humor to hide from the world,

everything amuses her,

my own anxieties unsafe, wearing down on my own needs,

because Jane she never listens.

I have friends that offer solutions before I mouth my last words,

quick to solve, slow to listen to my sayings,

he'd rather write than read,

rather experience than take time to understand me the book he must read.

Maybe I don't know how to share,

maybe I don't know how to make them aware of my thoughts,

Make them see my words laid bare for them to feed on.

Maybe I'm the problem for finding fault lines on their shoulders to cry on that should have been mountains for me to stand on again.

08/03/21

'Amissis amicis' is Latin for 'Lost friends' and the brains behind this piece Eunice, you can follow her work here abiblegirl.com

ChisalamyPoems