I'm sorry, I'm not like
You all.
Not in the way that I'm special, or set apart,
Just different, for some reason
A difficult different.

I'm sorry my conversations
Are ****, and
I can't find the right things to say. I wish I
Could talk about Narnia, and give
Up space forever.

I'm sorry I haven't always
Been here,
One of your core memebers; I'm just
"More comfortable" on my own
On the benches.

I'm sorry I'm trying to steal her,
Your youngest love;
If I could give up these dreams of being
My own, our own, our own something
Great, I would.

I'm sorry I can't be banal, with a
Simple job in a simple town,
Content with what I know and doing just
Enough to get by on these broken
Parts of mine.

I'm sorry I can't love TV and video
Games the way you do,
To know them and talk about them as
Your friend is something I may
Never know.

I'm sorry I can't be a bonus son
Like the other.
But I love what I do, and though it may seem
Useless it's mine, and I'll do it for
Me, for her, for us.

I know none of you don't mean it, I know
Somehow it's in my head -- but
It's an uphill battle, and you're
Throwing boulders.