March 2022

“What did you do this weekend?” “How was your
Holiday?” I have to lie because my friends
Are made up of Youtubers, actors, singers
And their names never stay the same.

Can I call the books I read my friends?
I was alone after school once in the common room
And read Sylvia Plath for an hour. It was getting
Dark and looking up at the window,
I saw the trees outside swaying,
A group of five walking together, talking, laughing.

I learned from the guy who took four punches
In the face and never fought back.
And I smiled when Zooey did what only he
Could to save his sister Franny.
I’m a guest, invisible to the characters in the story.
I guess they keep me company
While others have friends who reply to them.

Sigh Wan