He doesn't even know my name.

 I know

very well

a pocket of people

that don't laugh at the same things

I do

and I don't laugh at what they think is funny

It's a blunt kind of honesty

It's like a pocket of time

That I remember 

but left

I don't want to burst that bubble

and I could

but I would protect it

If I could

even though it will never be home

Better to be me, alone. 

More to this will come, it's probably not what you think. It's worse.