3 Pages In and Still No Reply

Discussion in 'Archives' started by Lauriam, Mar 20, 2014.

  1. Lauriam I hope I didn't keep you waiting...

    Jun 4, 2009
    Nonbinary she/he/it?
    Really, really long poem, literally 3 pages long. Hence the name. Wrote this some time ago during the true story it's based on, and kept it hidden away until lots of stuff calmed down. Now, I think it's safe to post (though it's not about ANYBODY here, so I'm not sure what I was so worried about in the first place). So, here you go.

    3 Pages In and Still No Reply

    She got really low really fast one night
    So she decided to scream out and put up a fight
    She rounded up the people that she knew would bite
    And now she has to face up and make things right
    But it’s too late, they’re not answering her texts
    She’s chipping away at walls they built up to protect
    Themselves from her constant blame and quick deflects
    And I’m surprised they didn’t know what to expect.
    But instead it shocked them when it all came to light
    And the sight of her true form left them fleeing in fright
    And they were right, no one should have to deal with all that drama
    But she can’t see that it’s her fault, she blames her mama
    For the trauma and her daddy for the pain
    She blames her friends for the bandages covered in bloodstains
    She blames her roommate for the late rent and her speeding ticket on the rain
    And she throws it all away in the name of personal gain.
    She cries for them as she throws them out the door
    But it’s their money that she brings up even more
    Now that everyone’s packed up and left
    She curses them for leaving her broke and bereft
    She’s left all alone and she’s feeling betrayed
    She’s crying that they’ve wronged her and she wishes they’d stayed
    Even now when the worst of it is past
    She looks back on it and the blame is cast
    On those who left and rightly pulled out fast
    And she doesn’t understand why her friendships never last
    I tried to tell her that she played the wrong card,
    That if you lean too hard on people then the people fall hard
    But she never listens, she thinks she knows best
    And the rest of us are left being put to the test.
    She threatens to kill herself over the silliest things
    And no one ever knows what tomorrow may bring
    She bites the very hand to which she desperately clings
    We try to help her and hold on but boy, does it sting.
    So she goes on and she doesn’t have a clue
    Living every day until the day is through
    Cursing their names until her face has gone blue
    While she cries at broken pictures, she throws out the glue
    Because she doesn’t really know what friendship means
    She has no patience for sticking through the bad scenes
    She cries for them later but in the moment, she screams
    writing them off to keep looking for the friend of her dreams.
    The friend she wants will give her all of his attention
    ‘Cause if you don’t focus on her solely you must not have real affections.
    He’ll always be on facebook and he’ll write on her wall
    He’ll reblog from her tumblr and he’ll never miss a call
    He’ll text her and sing to her and never let her fall
    He’s handsome, he’s loving, and very very tall.
    One day she’ll wake up and realize he doesn’t exist
    Until then she keeps making new friends just to resist
    When they tell her things she doesn’t like, so she throws her fits
    And the next day tells the world that they made her slit her wrists.
    She bemoans her lost friends while she blasts their reputation
    And replaces them within days of the initial separation
    She says she’s going cautious to avoid future desolation
    But she throws herself at people so she can feel gratification.
    It’s a never ending cycle of abuse and high stakes
    She puts them on a pedestal to see how long it takes
    Before they fall and when they do, she kicks them while they’re down
    And demands they apologize as she watches them drown
    She cries and stamps her feet and she complains of her woes
    She takes mean jibes and she hits low blows
    She puts on pretty masks when she performs pretty shows
    And she ties up nasty packages in neat little bows
    She’s honey if you’re nice to her, and bees if you’re not
    She likes it when you please her, and one chance is all you’ve got
    Reward for love is little but her vengeance boils hot
    And is poured out for a lifetime while she drives you to rot
    And she’s convinced that she’s the only one to feel the break
    Because she can’t see past her own pity and heartaches
    Even those she loves don’t matter much in the end
    She leans on them so hard they either break or they bend
    She needs somebody solid on which she can depend
    And if you’re not “supportive” then you’re not a real friend
    But while she lambastes her enemies she worships herself
    She goes on and on about her trophy shelf
    Her list of good qualities is a mile long
    Loving, tender, dedicated, selfless, warm and strong
    Helpful, peaceful, wonderful, beautiful and joyful,
    A myriad of adjectives, powerful and plentiful
    But her best quality, says she, is her humility
    No seriously, she continuously spends her time reminding me
    How she thinks so low of herself and needs a bit of pity
    As she lives for herself and makes the most of the big city
    And she has no idea that I’ve built up a wall
    She has no idea that I cringe when she calls
    She has no idea that when she texts me, I stall
    She has no idea that I don’t like her at all.
    She thinks I worship the ground beneath her feet
    She thinks she’s my best friend, when I’m really feeling beat
    She flatters herself that she knows me inside and out
    When really she has no clue what she’s talking about

    And so she keeps on living, telling me how smart she is.
    And how silly I am.
    And how wrong I am.
    And how great she is.
    And how sorry I’m supposed to feel for her.
    And exactly why I should feel sorry for her.
    And how mean everyone else is.
    And how all her dearest friends hate her now.
    And how it’s not even her fault, she couldn’t help herself.
    And how they’re supposed to be understanding and forgiving.
    And how her teachers hate her and make her fail.
    And how her classmates are idiots and make her fail.
    And how everyone betrayed her.
    Poor her, mommy betrayed her too.
    And I’m supposed to be supportive and understanding and forgiving,
    So unless I agree, I’m being hateful.
    And if I talk to any of her “So called friends” I’d better be careful.
    Because they’re all crazy and abusive and they won’t take care of silly little me like she does.
    And don’t I know, she cares for me, because I’m a good obedient little friend.
    So why haven’t I texted back yet?
    Didn’t I get her facebook message?
    Didn’t I see her blog?
    And her facebook message telling me about the blog?
    And the text reminding me to check my facebook messages?
    Why haven’t I responded yet?
    Don’t I want to be her friend?
    Or did I just say that when it was good for me?
    Because everyone betrays her eventually, and she doesn’t know why.
    I know why.
    But I can’t tell her that, because she’s “sensitive” and I don’t want to have the world see me tagged in posts about _______ not being understanding and supportive and how the ______ (and you know who you are but she won’t name names, just tag you) can go ____ myself in ____ for all she cares and it’s my loss and it’s my fault and when her roommate finds her dead in the morning, well, I can know it was at my hand.
    And so my hand is forced, and I plaster a smile on my face as in my head I’m considering the positives of getting rid of my unlimited texting as it’ll give me an excuse to avoid her.
    She’s driven me from Facebook with her constant butting in.
    Making underhanded remarks she thinks I can’t understand.
    Because silly little me, I have no idea what that means. Silly little me, of course I don’t, she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, she’s said so herself.

    “so are you busy now?? because i really want to talk to you and i need somone to listen to me because im mad and hurt and crying and if i dont have someone tell me how great i am im gonna kill myself so can you please tell me how much ive helped you and how great i am becuase someone called me a _____ today and that’s what my mom calld me so it took me back there and i told them to ____ off but I’m feeling wordless again how dare they call me that so tell me how great i am thanks”
    “*worthless* sorry stupid autocorrect”

    Oh boy, here we go... Let’s see how long I can get away with avoiding this...