The Funny Friend

In a special feature and a step away from her journalism duties, our co-editor-in-chief wrote this poem.

Years of being despicable

And they never got tired

Do you know what it’s like?

A child who is taking their dark pit

And is now growing into maturity

I don’t deserve that opportunity

From believing every word of the scroll

To finding out I can make my own

I loathed my skin 

I loathed my hair

I loathed the sun

I loathed the shade

I befriended people who never had access

To my emotions other than humor

Humor that wasn’t mine but to appeal to them

I never thought it was funny

I just didn’t want to be alone

But I felt alone for a long time

I remember the first time I cried in front of them 

The random burst of tears but they 

Were too uncomfortable helping their

Funny friend

Initiating conversations on my own

Left them alone and not a word from them back

Found my people who weren’t afraid to cover the hole

They suddenly think they’re allowed to help

They’ve been clueless to my concluding efforts to dig my pit

It was years and I was never asked one Are you ok?

This is what it like being the only one outside of the box 

For this reason I don’t have people who look like me who

Will ever understand

I realized why I haven’t spoken and it’s not because I didn’t want to 

But I thought no one who looked like me ever seemed to grow up

With this problem

Maybe they hid their negative emotions like I did

Maybe they didn’t want to fold on the pedestal people put us in

They can’t handle not knowing enough about me now

That I found my people

They remember I’m alive

Frequent “Hi’s” and “Byes” 

But I never told them why they can’t cover the hole with my people and I

But they don’t understand I still come across the steel that gets in the way while digging

Every single day

And when I think of digging it back up I remember I’m letting them win if I do it.