Being Just The Friend, a poem by Drem

This poem was originally called Shut Up You Made It. I wrote it awhile ago.

I have a couple of poems about being what is now called, “friendzoned”. I don’t mind being friendzoned. Unless the guy is cute. Or my dependability is taken advantage of. But really, I’m at a point where I think I’m a shitty friend. But the friends I do have know why. I have a lot going on- physically. With my chronic illness. And that isn’t going away. I gave one of my dearest friends a wooden sign for Christmas that says, “Good friends are like stars. You don’t always see them but you know they are there.”  She knows why I’m not always dependable. And I rather have a few stars in my sky than a vast dome of darkness above me, filled with mere strings of lights impersonating the distant suns. ❤

Image is from Google Images.

 

xoxo Drem

Being Just The Friend, a poem by Drem

April 29, 2015

“You know those people

who sit around at a table

facing you

with this dire

expression,

sorrowful eyes.

“Oh, I hate myself.

I can’t have anyone love me

because I don’t want to even see me.”

Well, it’s for good damn reason,

phasing to the season

of Spring.

You’re in reality.

Congratulations.

You’re horrible.

You’re not realizing.

You’re over-thinking.

Or not thinking.

See, there is no problem.

Chains rest on your ankles.

We’re stationed

in daytime

with no fog

out to dim the

light.

Verbatim- the next kid repeats

on the stereo

that no one can love him, too,

because he’s ugly

and/or stupid

and/or unsuccessful.

We may have been made

in the palm of God’s hand.

But that doesn’t mean

that another human being

would want to hold our hand.

We’re damaged.

Were damaged.

During transit.

What it took to get to this point.

It hurt.

We’re the problem

in the polo-wearing

mind

and the answer

to the lifeline.

We’re the one

“friend”

that always picks up

to sooth your little

slutty

broken heart.

We’re the middle

where the glue meets

holding up the makeshift worship steeple.

And through all these things,

we function.

And suffer silently.

So get with the program

and follow your programming.

We’re the only people

in this world

who are not blind

to reflections

or observations

of situations!

We are the ones

who can recognize perfection.

And we can realistically weigh

the chances

of happiness.

And statistically,

you’re even more worse off

than me.

That’s saying something.

You just speak too, too much

for a shadow.”


7 thoughts on “Being Just The Friend, a poem by Drem

    1. Thank you so much for reading it! And, I am glad you liked it!!! That makes me happy I posted it. I was debating whether or not to. It’s kind of long and I’m like half asleep lol. I think I’m always half asleep though, so… 😛

      xoxo

      How are you?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ok, I’ll think of it as half awake. Still, that sounds like I’m tired ^-^

        I found this in one pink journal. I didn’t even remember I had this one. It’s circa 2012. And I’m just going through and posting everything I have from it slowly. I have a lot of books like that. The problem is, they get misplaced. And over the years I forget the work in them existed. When I find one it’s like finding an old friend ❤

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I have the same problem. I keep all of these random pieces of paper in old workbooks that I only ever go through when I’m moving and I always come across so many things! Still, better late than never to share with the world.

        Liked by 1 person

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