i live for the applause
not like lady gaga
i live for the slow clap after a badly told joke

you live for the clothes
and the boys
and the drama
you live for saying things passionately
and for leaving me behind

i live for the hilarity
and the semi-trucks that send people i vaguely care about
sliding into perfect laughter
i live for the feeling that you care about me
and aren't just using me to move your ****
or cook you dinner
or design your wardrobe
or be there when you cry
so i can hug the **** out of you
and hand you tissues
i live for the feeling that what i'm giving
could someday come back

but what i get is the feeling
that it never will
that i won't trust you again
that you knew what you were doing
that i should stop burning my body
that i am not a candle to be lit
that i will not be a light
if i am dead

i have the feeling that applause will ***** me out
that i have had too much applause in my life anyway
i have the feeling that you don't give a single **** for how i feel

no,
it is not a feeling.
that last one is a fact