I'm sitting like a doll on a shelf. Pretty. Still.
Alone.
And you don't spare me so much as a glance.
That's just it, isn't it?
I'm not your ideal. I never will be.
But I am so desperate for your touch, I'm willing to stay where you leave me.
Pretty. Still. Alone.
Unhappy.
7/2/11
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment