I love to buy temporary tattoos
Not just because of who I fool,
but I like to step out of me and pretend to be
what you might not see
by looking at me.
I do silly things and love to pretend.
Then I miss the messages you're trying to send.
Things become real
and I'm unsure how to feel
or how to heal.
I'm not electronic or made out of steel.
I scrub my skin trying to feel clean.
You can barely make out what it was supposed to mean.
I'll be okay
and you'll fade away.
But if I may,
perhaps it's good that you didn't stay.