Vulture's Prey

Many years ago there was a young girl who had very little self-confidence. She knew she was intelligent; she had a feeling she was attractive; she was fairly sure she was an interesting person. What she didn't believe was that anyone else (other than her parents, who of course didn't count) could see or value any of this. She also believed that she had enough flaws that anyone who got to know the real her would reject her. So she walled herself off from the world, sat in the corner, and watched life go by.

She was very lonely.

The girl had a few friends here and there, but because of a life spent living overseas and traveling back and forth and always saying goodbye to people, she struggled to maintain those friendships. She struggled even more to make new ones. One year when she was back in the strange unfamiliarity of Michigan, she somehow was drawn into a four-way friendship with three other misfit girls at her school. They all sat near each other in several classes due to the accident of alphabet and last names, and for some reason she never understood, they welcomed her into their little group.

Over time, the girl became increasingly close to one of the girls in particular. This other girl was a rebel. She was edgy and dangerous in a sneaky sort of way. She held herself with an air of confidence and take-no-prisoners attitude that the girl envied. So the girl overlooked her friend's tendency to use her. When her friend started taking the girl's geometry homework to copy, the girl said nothing. When her friend would ditch the girl at the last minute because something else came up, the girl said nothing. When her friend would talk endlessly about her own drama and showed no interest in what the girl might be going through, the girl said nothing.

She was just grateful to have a friend.

The girl went back overseas for two years, and her friend never replied to any of the letters she sent. This wasn't anything new, however, so the girl said nothing. And when she returned to Michigan for college, she reached out to her friend once again, who was more than happy to accept the girl back into her life--without the other two friends, who had all drifted apart once the girl left.

The girl started changing, however, and started realizing that perhaps someone who was a real friend should care more about the girl herself rather than how she fit into the friend's life at her convenience. The girl started standing up for herself a little bit. She didn't drop everything at a moment's notice for her friend any more. She started making her own story and her own needs known a little more.

And her friend stopped calling. She stopped answering the phone when the girl would call. Finally, when the girl called her to ask if they could get together over a school break, the friend told the girl that she really didn't have time to see her anymore.

The girl hung up, shrugged, and never called the friend again. She realized, finally, that this other girl had never been a true friend at all.

Years and years later, when the girl had grown even more and was finally becoming the person she wanted to be, she made many true friends. One day one of the dearest of those friends sent her a song to enjoy. There was something about the song that struck a note in the girl. She would play the song again and again, caught up in the music. The lyrics, too, struck something in the girl. One day as she read them again, she realized that the lyrics were singing the song of that old, false friendship.

And she breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that she no longer thought that this sort of friendship was the most that she deserved.

Little princess, with no need for empathy when we will
gather at your feet to give you anything you need
and feel privileged
just to have you hang around
so we can look you
up and down and hope for you
to turn around and maybe notice
all the things we have inside
things that you pretend to provide
to get yourself around in life

So, sorry to get in your way
It seems that I forgot my place...
A means to your superficial ends
Here, let me scratch your back again
Sweetie

Little princess, how could I be any use?
Might I assist with your abuse
and whatever else you choose?
Good thing you're pretty
or else you'd be no good to me
Your fake concern is rather weak
I hear an echo when you speak
but it's ok...
Manipulate me all you need, for we are all
your currency...
even your spite is flattering

So, sorry to get in your way
It seems that I forgot my place...
A means to your superficial ends
Here, let me scratch your back again
Sweetie

Little doll faced vulture, circling round...
captivating as I lay on the ground
waiting for you to come swooping down
to feast on my weakness
and move on through the crowd