I’m sitting on the table
I’m sitting outside your door
I’m becoming who I said I would not
Seeking attention more and more
I promise I will be different
as I really just stay the same
I promise I’ll be better
as I continue to feed my brain
Baskets full of cases
and heads full of dead
I remark on your appearance
but nothing was actually said
I wrote down my thoughts
inside the lids of my eyes
I wrote down my circumstances
and I choose to despise
I am slipping away further
and faster than before
I’ll be your little angel,
your little attention whore