Every day, I sit and stare
at you talking about what others consider nonsense.
I'd call you a wordsmith,
Staged-like words flowing off the tip of your tongue.
I hunch in the corner of the group,
hoping to be seen,
yet, being invisible at my own will.
You glance at me a few times,
though you never let the stare stay.
You comment about something I know
and I respond soporifically.
I'm rooted to this spot
until I see you go.
You'll run down the street,
like someone's at your feet,
speeding away from me.
I make it weird,
uncomfortable
awkward
strange.
No one wants to tell me to shove off,
so I stay.
I stay because you make me happy,
even if you act like you hate me half the time.
I know you won't ever see, or even like me,
But now you know why I can never leave.
Posted in response to the challenge Leave.
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