My friends don’t read my poetry
Even when they say they do
They don’t know black from blue
They don’t know deranged like I do
My friends don’t text me back
Nobody sees me as important
I’m real funny, know that for sure
But when things get real, people get bored
A pretty girl in a stained dress is such an eyesore
My friends don’t come pick me up, say I live too far
I’m in the middle of nowhere next to an empty park
I’d go running at night but I’m scared of the dark
Scared of having to tell officers I don’t know my way home
The sound of cars used to soothe me to sleep
Now it won’t leave me alone
Too nostalgic for the city
That was when people thought I was pretty
We’d lay on the ground and laugh
Like, I got your back
No matter how far
My friends don’t exist in my life anymore
Unless I make one up, like Cobain
My god, that man was in such pain
He understood what it felt like to be annoyed
How impossible it is to fill a black-and-white void
Because when they no longer love you, they destroy
Forty seconds till it matters
Rain on my roof, pitter patter
Basement rats, watch them scatter
I just wish I fucking mattered
I just wish I-
