And it hurts, feeling like your forgettable.
Feeling like if you leave the room, coming back doesn’t matter.
I have to throw my hands in your face for you to remember me.  
You said I was funny, you said you were thinking of me until the new toy was in stock.
She’s bigger, she’s better, she’s shiny and new, you know I’d probably choose that too.
But when she smiles, all you see are the gears, working to keep her head intact, the heart is a ***** secured with glue and plastic.
And when she laughs at your jokes yeah she still looks pretty but doesn’t know what you said and then sits quietly.
Just so politely and shiny and new.