You hide it,

you think I'm blind.

But I'm not,

and I see it.

.

Those fake smiles

that don't show in eyes

adorn your face,

but shouldn't be there.

.

Why are you doing this?

To yourself, to me.

Why do you insist you're flawed?

Why do you apologize about yourself?

.

Let me help you,

I'm terrified to say.

In case you turn away

and never look back.

.

Please listen to me,

I want to tell you.

But it doesn't come out.

Please.

.

Why do this?

Why doubt yourself?

Why? Don't you know

you're slowly killing us both?

.

You're distant.

Not responding.

Please, I call.

Let me help.

This is real. I'm having trouble with a friend . . . my friend (lets call her A) has me as her only "real" "main" friend. Thing is, I have other friends and I can't hang out with A all the time. The rest is in the poem. I don't know what to do . . .