It hurts to put him first,
No matter the cost for you,
And to put yourself second
When you know he puts you there, too.

It hurts to come second,
Because he's your natural Number One,
But he's got a family who loves him-
And he's where you end up when you run.

It hurts because you'll never tell him that
Sometimes at night you flashback to crying alone,
In a room that doesn't feel like home,
And gluing yourself back together by morning.

It hurts because you're afraid
That what happened before will happen again,
That you'll need to be for someone else
What you yourself are still missing.

It hurts to come second,
And he never knew
How hard he'd have to try just
To keep from hurting you.

It hurts, and you'll probably never tell him
Because that's just not who you are,
And also because somewhere you know that
Who you're with is not the one who let you fall.

It hurts anyway.
It hurts coming second.
Write yourself some poetry,
Maybe learn a lesson:

Remember to be self- sufficient,
Because you're fragile and you're breakable;
And that that's your problem, not his,
And that as long as YOU have a choice-- choose him.

Remember that it's not so simple
When his Number Ones don't know you exist,
But what can you do, you feel like this
Because it hurts to come second.