It’s fine, I’ll bear

I'm not strange, just not your kind,

you could have said it, eased my mind.

Instead, you spoke those perfect lies,

led me on with hopeful eyes,

knowing well it'd never be,

but let me dream of you and me.

I changed myself, I twisted, bent,

hoping you'd see the love I sent.

More than just a body, a face,

but you never noticed, never gave space.

Your eyes, they stayed on what's outside,

while the deeper parts of me had died.

I remember the things you've long forgot,

your favorite songs, the way you talk,

the way you smile when no one sees,

but you remember none of these.

I told myself, "It's fine, don't care,"

as long as you were standing there.

But deep inside, it hurt to know,

you'd never care, you'd never show

the kind of love I gave for free—

to you, I'm not worth memory.

I know we're not meant to be,

yet still, my heart won't set me free.

I'm hurting myself, but what's the cost,

as long as you're here, I'm not quite lost.

You've become a part of who I am,

while I'm just dust in your hand.

I think of you both day and night,

while I'm barely a flicker in your sight.

Still, I say, "It's fine, I'll bear,"

still, I whisper, "I don't care."

As long as you're near, it's all okay—

even if I fade away.