i’m so fucking popular. i have so many friends. but only in the winter. on rainy days when no one else will come out to play. you see, i’m always out to play. i’m on display. come and get me when you need me. you can look, but don’t touch, don’t feed me. i’m such a mess. i’m under dressed. obscene, teen dream. the one you’ll never take home to meet your parents. the one with the messy hair and the bruised bones. the one who waits by the telephone. “boy sedgwick” is not a compliment. my trust is up to rent. love me when i’m necessary. i’m guessing you need something. square one, is what they call me. in addition to a million other things. this stings. i drink too much. and i smoke too much. ask anyone, they’ll tell you i don’t eat that much. never good enough. i’ve got friends to spare, but i still can’t decide what i’m going to wear, to last night’s party, i’m lovely, hardly. pass by me on the street, push past me in the hallway. ask me favors, obsolete. and tell me when to go away. i’m a walking billboard, kissed the ground, you can’t afford, to lose me, so you use me. i guess this should be news to me. it isn’t. i’m done. i miss the feeling of being young. i’m not as stupid as you think, i could leave this place, in the halfhearted blink, of an eye, but i try, to be good, to be understood, and maybe one day you’ll see, that i’m giving you all of me. i’m never enough, but i’m giving my all to be.
