I feel that I am the last thing on their mind.
That is not said as if I am the last thing that they think of at night.
I am saying this as if I am the last in the queue of those they deem important. I'm the least concerning subject.
So ask anyone and everyone and everyone and nobody (with a clear conscience) would object.

I can tell you now, so often I tend to see them.
They occupy the empty pocket between bone and brain,
and they fill the blue emptiness of sky reflected in my eyes.
Are they so oblivious? Do they just ignore this?

For however awkward I already am, and probably will always be,
they never seem to notice how I start to stutter more,
or how I try to disappear when they're near.

I stare, though, it must be clear as day.
I take in details about their face, so familiar that if I tried I could trace it into the clay.
But at the same time, if I try to remember, I picture nothing but their gaze.

I'm not lovesick for the girl,
who I call adorable.
I don't feel shy for the older one who hugs me and smiles my way in the hallways.
I don't pine for the boy who I admire for his personality at times.

I think I love the one who held purple petals out to me as a joke,
but I stuck beside for the night, still with other friends but always staring at him.
I think this time I'm just feeling for someone who caught me off guard when I realized what I've been thinking.