Comfort

There's always that certain spot
Beside where you lay that I seem to fit
Into so perfectly. And you tell me there is
Something comfortable about having me there.
That makes me smile for a time, but then I think
Is that what I want to be? Just your
Security blanket that you toss to the side
At the first glimpse of something more interesting?
So far you've always returned to what you know;
To what feels right. Yet I still worry I'll
Be forgotten like a child's long-lost, once cherished
Teddy bear, worn down and in disrepair.
I just want you to see me as more than just
Something nice to have around when you
Find it convenient for you.
I want you to be able to see what you mean
To me, what you do to me when you walk away,
And for you to be able to appreciate those things.
I don't expect you to ever feel the same way
In return, just looking for a little understanding,
Maybe a little comfort of my own.