Is it all too much when I ask for nothing?
Just for you to say 'hi' in the halls,
And ask if I'm okay when I'm crying in the corner,
But it's all too much for you.

Is it all too much when I say a word?
Just one single word about myself,
And even when the words are ones you should care about,
It's all too much for you.

Is it all too much when I hang around?
Just to be there and not be lonely-stricken like I am,
And have someone to keep me accountable,
But it's all too much for you

Because even when I'm sad, and down,
Even when I stay up late for your wallows,
Even when I need to rant because then I'll scream,
And I listen to all of your creations without a second thought.
Even when I'm just there; silent, invisible,
You'll still push me out.

I know that I'm weird, a mess—different,
But so are you, and that's what makes us fit.
But now you glare at me from down the hall,
So I'm sorry this can't mend,
But that's alright with you, isn't it?