Friendless

The hand in the mirror replicates what I do

A sliver of myself, wishing it were split apart

To become a friend, so that I'm not alone.

There is no sun I could take light from,

To illuminate the darkest hours,

To draw a challenge to shine from.

I repeat after me, I am my own friend.

I force myself to intertwine with broken wires

I can hear echoing giggles, hushed tones and

A feeling of warm, rosy normalcy.

Where can I deposit envy for cups of confidence?

Better yet, when will I find souls 

To connect to - at ungodly hours?

Where can I look for eyes that know

The unspoken, the unwritten yet the familiar?

Blurry faces over sombre whispers?

Pushing buttons against seeing words?

There's static in my ear, numbness seeps in.

Sucking in a deep breath, out of habit,

I decide, I can have more than one friend;

The hourglass must turn, if not pause.

Wait, an impatient word.

Losing the kiss of laughter and

Craving the touch of sanity,

I wait, and wait, and wait,

Till I find the cure of my lucidity.

I turn to the mirror, and pose - questions:

Will I be able to make friends? 

Can I rely on then? Can they trust me?

Can we hang on to that string of ease?

Without actually having to communicate?

Worry not, I'm only asking these questions

To myself, and I must wait.

I will find an answer.

I will make more friends.