On Facebook
I see all the friends
of my friends.
They all look great.
Wonderful, glorious times
with gleaming movie star smiles.
They do not look incomplete.
They do not look melancholic.
Smiling happy people
reveling in their college memories,
with that same REM soundtrack.
Summoning my imagination,
I try hard,
squinting,
to picture myself among them.
Too fat.
Not brown enough and
not white enough.
Hopelessly uncool smile.
Too square to party.
I haven't forgotten the sting
of exclusion,
of betrayal,
so I became
my own best friend,
and sensing his loneliness
I am also
my own best friend’s
best friend.
This rang so true, and made me smile... you are, as usual, the master of dark humor.
ReplyDeleteI too "...haven't forgotten the sting of exclusion, of betrayal. Excellent write, I can relate to this!
ReplyDeleteshoot! I can relate to this;))
ReplyDeleteWe should all by our own best friends anyway...
ReplyDeleteLove the dark humor. This is exactly why I'm not on Facebook! As I was reading your poem, I started humming REM! Nice.
ReplyDeletethere is something to be said of being able to be a friend to yourself...and they are not all happy...
ReplyDelete