so i'm sat there
purposefully ditsy
i've perfected my laugh to be two octaves higher
my hair unnaturally straight
belly trapped and contained for now
red marks flushed against the milky white of my skin
caused by wires and hidden my clothes
but still you don't look at me

soon enough i give up
my mane is let lose
i allow my stomach to breathe and fold over
overgrown and bushy in all senses of the word
(not as a personal choice i may add, simple sloth)
the hazel in my hair now stripped and yellow
my laugh lands deep and guttural, somewhat ******

you tell me i changed and i scoff
you expect me to envy the boy who never changed?
same laugh same weight same personality
no development except for new purple haze
a drug on which your entire identity
i'd laugh if i felt anything more towards you than pity