Next to Nothing

I'm standing next to nobody,
Letting no one hold me.
As I sob into my hands
I am next to nothing.
I am not anybody special
I write poetry for the world to read
But no one reads my poetry.
I smoke cigarettes, I drink coffee
I get lost inside my mind.
I waste away.
You pass by me
You don't know my name
But I have been here for years,
In the same tiny neighborhood
Taking care of my tiny little house
That no one will ever see the inside of,
Unless I take a gun to my head
And they find me.
But who would even notice I was missing?
No one.
I am next to nothing.