If I happen to die
Would you remember
the numbers written
On my wrist each night?
When you look at the sky,
do you see what you saw
Before me?

I'm no better
than the girls in the spotlight
Felt older, fell harder
Depicted demise
and I'm tired of listening
to the mindless small talk
With which I cannot engage
For the sake of my sanity.

I'm no less
than the women who pine
Drunk off of one small glass of red wine
When you look, do you see
What I want you to see?