Friend

Are you a friend to me?
I wish you could be
sitting there across the table
satisfied
with too much in your mind.

You want to be a friend to me.
You say you do
you said you did
I want you for a friend, to see
if I can change
your selfish ways
and make you care
and not just say you do.

You are not real to me.
You live and live a life
but not your own
but do I see your real life there?
I want to sense it but
I do not think you do
not knowing that you hide
not hiding what you know
you think
you show
but too much is a plastic dagger
twisting in my chest
so only I can scream.