in your eyes
i am nothing
but an masturbatory
aid for your eyes
and mind
the joy of american baal,
the thread of what you
cling too
and not the coat of skin
i wear or what i hoped
you to want to wear
but you sing praise
to yourself
and of when we lay in the same
bedroom i slept
on my left side to face the wall
instead of you
i was no person to you,
only if you wanted me
to breathe some cheesy/drugmeuntil
my self-esteem was boosted
i dreamt of you missing me
and it left a burnt taste in my tongue
and it tasted of you,
because you dont deserve
to think of me
and of course you'll think this
is about you but i'll let
you think of you
