The friends that are not

When the day is done,
and I sit alone in bed.
I start to feel lonely,
trapped alone inside my head.

Laughter, games, and fun,
are how things seem to be.
But hidden under the mask,
is my insecurity.

Plenty of friends I have,
sure, I seem to have a lot.
But the part that really agitates me is
the friends that are not.

I always try to be friends.
To them I self deploy.
They act with disgust,
and I always seem to annoy.