Lone Observer

Dear Lindsay, 

I wonder why you look at me 

Like I'm not quite sane. 

Or why you often come to think

My life is filled with pain. 

I know that when you see me here 

I often am alone.

With a look that just might read

I'd rather be at home. 

I know what it must look like

My eyes cast towards the ground. 

And how in a conversation 

I rarely make a sound. 

When compared with those around me 

I always came up short. 

I guess you saw that as a cue 

To offer your support. 

But I hate it when you stare me down 

And see a cry for help. 

As if you know much more than I

Of how I really felt. 

And when that offer surely came;

As your hand became extended.

It wasn't hard for me to see

That this would soon be ended. 

I wanted to believe you

That for once I could percieve. 

The friendship that was proffered 

Was not for you but me. 

But buried deep within me

I knew that wasn't true. 

Know matter how I saw it

This wasn't something new. 

These things have happened often 

I can trace them to my past. 

You weren't the first to do this

And you sure won't be the last. 

I know that your intentions 

Were nothing else but good. 

And what should really matter

Is you did all that you could. 

But I don't really buy that

And I doubt that you do either. 

I hope that you were satisfied 

In your paltry role of teacher. 

In your attempt to draw me out 

I withdrew even further. 

I ended up where I began

Alone as an observer. 

I cannot seem to quite recall 

Of when I sought your pity. 

I'm better off the way I am

Of that I won't feel guilty. 

I'll never know or understand

The aspects of your nature. 

You're considerate until your not; 

A contradiction of behavior. 

There isn't really anything 

Now that I can do. 

All I hope is that you know;

This wasn't me but you. 

Of what I was and what I meant 

I have no clear idea. 

Mayhap one day I'll understand

Sincerely, Honorina