Youth.

I've been
counting
the days
since you asked
me how I am.

You were
never like me,
only pretended to be.
I gave support
without
expectations,
placing you in
the right light
so you could be
the most vibrant.

Living in the
background
is familiar,
a comfort that
softens the
blow.

I'm fine with
growing apart
to some degree,
because it proves
you've left your
youth
far behind.

If you asked me
how I'm doing
now,
I would be
inaudible.

We're not the same
even though we're
bonded by blood;
I'll always be
out of
focus
to you.