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



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