I've been so curious as to what I am.
What I am to other people.
What I mean to other people.
And I have found out what it is.
I am nothing.
I am the unwanted friend and son.
I am the mistake made at a party.
I am the regret you feel when you realized you could've done better.
I am the thing people don't want.

Why am I this way.
Why am I thrown away after I give everybody my all.
Why am I getting hurt.
For doing my best.

I'm sorry.
If I went away you wouldn't notice.
You wouldn't feel or see the difference.
But as soon as I say this.
I exist again.
I "matter".
It's just because you don't want to have to deal with death.
Deal with putting up the front of sadness.
I know I wouldn't be missed.
But that doesn't matter.
Because I don't matter.