Just Let Go.

It happened all over again it seems.

I'm left feeling awkward.

Like I don't belong.

Like maybe I said the wrong thing,

Just bared a bit too much of my soul.

 

Whatever it was,

I remember my place.

I'm the quiet one.

The listener.

The not-quite best friend.

The almost-like-a brother.

 

I remember my place quite well:
To be called on when I'm needed and disregarded otherwise.