I'm sorry I can't tell you stories,
and play with you on your swing set.
I'm not going to be there
to braid your hair
and boss you around.
                       You would never know.

You won't remember
that time I held you
while you napped.
                       I changed your diaper once,
                       but you won't remember that either.

It scares me
that you might not know
I exist.
                      If you never saw me again,
                      you would never know
I love you.
And I'm here.

the tragedy is
not that I am alone

it is that I can
never not
be
alone

.                            "Ew, he's so gross! Look at his nasty hair."
Sometimes
I just like to listen.
I like to sit here and observe silently
while you carry on
and babble about how popular
you think you are.

                             "I think I'm breaking up with him tonight. He needs me. I'm too good for him though."

I am the dust particles in the air.
You know I'm here,
but I go unnoticed.
You think I'm not phased
by your rude statements of others.
And your condescending laughter.
                            
                             "No, you can call ME later tonight. I'm just too busy to take time to call you."

But what you don't know
is that I see the other side
of your cocky personality.
You think nobody sees you,
but I've noticed.

I've noticed the way you start to panic
when your friends leave the room.
Your eyes bounce around searching
for someone to cling on to.
You are nothing without them.
      You have no one left to try and impress.