I am never the first choice.
No one aches
to share secrets with me.
They guard their words around me,
scrolling past my name,
only turning to me
when no one else replies.
Secrets lie heavy,
pressing against my ribs,
ready to be known
if they’d listen.
I don’t want their pity;
I just want to be heard.
Slowly, I become
more like a memory.
Not forgotten—
but no one notices I’m missing.
My absence isn’t felt.
No one traces the shape I leave.
Sometimes
on the edge of the circle
I’ll look away for a moment,
study the sky,
count cracks in pavement.
Once in a while, there’s mercy
in a stranger.
They might smile at me.
A slight curve,
nothing more.
But
I’ll remember I exist
and for a heartbeat… I’ll matter.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 1:32 PM UTC
I am never the first choice.
No one aches
to share secrets with me.
They guard their words around me,
scrolling past my name,
only turning to me
when no one else replies.
Secrets lie heavy,
pressing against my ribs,
ready to be known
if they’d listen.
I don’t want their pity;
I just want to be heard.
Slowly, I become
more like a memory.
Not forgotten—
but no one notices I’m missing.
My absence isn’t felt.
No one traces the shape I leave.
Sometimes
on the edge of the circle
I’ll look away for a moment,
study the sky,
count cracks in pavement.
Once in a while, there’s mercy
in a stranger.
They might smile at me.
A slight curve,
nothing more.
But
I’ll remember I exist
and for a heartbeat… I’ll matter.
I originally wrote this as an original work for my Literature Portfolio in my English class. Then my teacher said it was good but could use some work so I tried to workshop it a little. Do you like the original, or the revised?
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