See my friends.

I’m not a good friend.

I don’t know how to be.

Sometimes I see acquaintances smiling at me, uncertain.

Like I’m a simpleton, or a fragile egg.

“Do you even want to be here?”  “Are we an inconvenience?”

 
No, that’s not it.

It’s just that I’m just pretty certain you don’t like me.

And I don’t want to waste your time.

 

 

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