i feel like dirt on hands
constantly brushed off
washed away with sorry excuses and their *******
antibacterial soap they think smells so good

i feel like that poor confused girl
the one in that book that was never very popular
always making the wrong decisions and having the wrong ideas
such a silly girl
such a stupid girl

i feel left out
like a lamp post in the wind
ragged and worn,
but still ******* standing
still trying to light up the street that it's mind long ago abandoned

it's almost as if just giving a person a promise to hold onto
is like giving them thin air
strange,
isn't it?
that promises meaning absolutely nothing
even after we put so much behind them