You Don't Like Me

You don’t like me—  
You like the way I fill the silence  
when your world goes quiet,  
when all your friends are gone,  
and you’re left  
with nothing but your own shadow.

You like how I make you feel important,  
special, like the center of a universe  
that you don’t even see me in.  
You never liked me—  
not for who I am,  
but for the way I hold you  
when no one else cares enough to.

You craved the attention,  
the love you thought you deserved,  
and I gave it, didn’t I?  
I poured it out, every drop,  
but it wasn’t for me—  
it was for someone else  
who never showed up.

I was just the stand-in,  
the soft landing,  
the space where you could pretend  
you were wanted.

But you don’t want me.  
You never did.

I was the glow in the dark  
when the one you really wanted  
left you alone.

I was the backup,  
the filler,  
the body next to you  
when your world fell apart.  
And now that it’s together again,  
where does that leave me?