Double Crossed

Perhaps it is a day to be thankful and just wish it so.  Wish the days would yield some friend to spare.  But I get the glares.  I get the rolling eyes.  I'd rather have my own company than that of a false friend.  Let's just say, I like you but I know when to quit.  The Avon Lady came calling and she was so kind.  But there will be no calling, just a dirty exchange.  Do your laundry.  If you want to help, do.  But hang it on out to dry.  I miss you.  I miss some small things and some bigger things.  I miss days and nights.  Friends is a concept.  A friend can be a misconception.  No matter what I was into, I could always be cool.  There will always be those around who don't want to understand you.  I guess you have to confess that you are different and deal with the consequences.  May the chips land where they may.  Hopefully, in the end, you'll understand that I was always the waiting ear, the listening friend.  You might realize I was always there but unused, unneeded.  I don't need sweet kisses sent up to Heaven for me.  I've known for two decades what loss means.  Kittens, rainbows, sugar and spice.  That did not serve the days, weeks, months and years between the rain, the snow and desperation.  All of the colors will fade.