When friendship seems to be in play, I'm no more than a novice,
I wish to understand them,
I wish to be part of them,
my glowing, shining friends,
Their kindness illuminates everything they entangle,
If only I knew what to do,
when I talk to them every possible subject alludes me,
nonsense of books I read or what I've done recently clatters from the abyss that seems to be my mouth,
I bore them with my unneeded knowledge,
When situations arise in their presence,
my only answer is to run away and escape to a place that I can be angry or cry without hurting anyone.
I'm too serious,
and can't make them laugh,
my wish is to be the reason they smile,
but all I seem to create is hurting agony,
and a failure of a friendship.
It's always been this way; and I've always been terrible when it comes to others.