I wonder if you notice that your eyes wander, even when I'm in the room. I can see them look right through me as if I were ziploc bag.
I don't remember the last time you chased me.
I am a woman who wants to be needed.
Maybe that's why I entertain people who show me desire,
Let me know they're up for a challenge.
Maybe if I felt a little more passion,
I wouldn't seek infatuation from men who's hands I do not know.
You never show me off anymore.
Why are you even still around?
Sometimes I just want to feel wanted? Is that too much to ask?