unseen, untouched

You come when the silence is too loud,
when her arms feel empty,
when loneliness is too heavy to hold alone.

You send a song, a thought, a half-formed promise.
I don’t have to ask anymore.
I know what comes next.

You take what you need,
a reply, a reassurance, a presence
that asks for nothing.

I answer, because I always do.
Not because I don’t know better,
but because once, I mattered.

Now I fit into the gaps she leaves,
the in-between hours,
the quiet moments before she comes home.

You keep me where it’s safe,
tucked away, unseen, untouched,
a secret that costs you nothing.

But I see it now.
The pattern. The game.
And I wonder how long I can keep pretending
this is enough.

I said I’d be here.
I meant it.
But if this is all you make room for,
one day, I might have outgrown you.