It's getting to be boring.
I'm sure you're aware.
So it'll be no surprise,
when I'm out of your hair.
I've got big ideas,
a few sweet plans.
You don't need to be there,
with your indifference.
I won't drag you along,
or force you to bite.
Either walk beside me,
or return to the night.
You groan and you sigh.
I think of everything else.
You lie through your teeth,
about what you've felt.
And I'll believe you
because of the way you smell
like I need you,
can't get over your spell.
Your white mask is plastic,
you're still just a pup,
fooling everyone with
thinking your time is up.
You pull at your hair,
dig into your face.
You just need some sleep,
and to stay in one place.
Stop sniffing at me,
and licking my wounds,
I'm sick of the sting,
I'm leaving soon.