I don't know who this is for,
Who's address I would put on the envelope.
I have a few people in mind,
But I don't know if sending this to them would be the best idea.
I guess it's an open letter to my younger self.
My 15 year old self who was thrown into chaos,
Who walked into a crowd of scheming, malicious friends.
Friends? You ask.
Yes they were my friends,
And they fought,
And clawed their way to the top of a power structure,
Just to have it all tumbling down.
I was there the entire time.
Just trying to hold everyone together,
Keep everyone' s peace of mind,
While I lost my own.
What they never realized,
What I barely realized,
Was that as they played the game,
Learned the rules,
Learned to win and lose,
I forgot those rules.
Forgot is too nice,
I ignored them.
I lost my head making sure everyone kept theirs,
And when the dust settled,
When everyone took off their masks and assessed the damage,
I was there.
At the top
No one noticed,
They were to busy pointing fingers.
While they were busy throwing metaphorical stones and spears,
I was placing land mines,
And trip wires.
At the end of the day,
When the battle was over,
It was me and me alone at the top.
The one who had amassed all the power and influence my friends were desperately trying to hold on to.
I am still here,
Pondering my morality,
Pondering how ******* lonely it is.
Because while they built the pedestal,
Put me on top of it,
And surrendered without even realizing it,
They also isolated themselves from me.
And me from them.
And they have yet to realize the war they have lost.
While they were busy throwing insults,
Calling each other monsters,
They never even looked at me,
Or noticed me.
I sat there,
The most power hungry,
And ambitious one of all.
I sat at the top,
And no one even noticed.
So to my 15 year old self,
Who was thrown into the fire,
And learned to lie,
Who learned to not only survive,
But conquer them all-
I notice you.
And I fear the day you get to show your true colors again.
To the people who taught me the politics of friendship