Only Me

Yeah.

You thought I cared?

That’s cute.

(hahaha) Look—

Pretty face, pretty lies,

I can sell ’em every night.

Say I love you,

say I care, then forget you were ever there.

Everybody wants a piece,

everybody thinks we’re deep.

I just smile and play the part,

you were talking to a work of art.

You got problems? Not my mess.

You need comfort? Call your ex.

Don’t come crying at my door,

I heard that story twice before.

I can hold you when you’re useful,

I can leave when you get dull.

You thought kindness made us equal?

Baby, no.

I’m beautiful.

They say, “You changed.” No,

bitch, I just stopped pretending.

They say, “I need you.” Sounds like a personal problem.

Everybody wants my hand when they’re hanging from the edge.

I look down, fix my hair,

then I laugh and say—

Every man for himself.

Don’t reach for me,

reach for somebody else.

You could fall, you could cry,

you could scream all night— I’m still sleeping fine.

Every man for himself.

Me, myself, and nobody else.

You thought I cared?

That’s funny as hell.

If the whole room burns,

I’m saving myself. Yeah.

Every man for himself.

Me.

Me.

Me. Who else? Me.

Me. Me. Nobody else.

Your tears? Cute. Your pain?

Next. Your heart? Should’ve kept that inside your chest.

I got sympathy on demand,

fake concern, perfect act.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Then I turn around and laugh.

I’m a sweetheart for the cameras,

I’m an angel when you watch.

Soon as everybody leaves,

I don’t give

a single— Stop. Let me behave.

Wouldn’t want to ruin my pretty name.

Everybody thinks I’m lovely.

Good. That’s exactly how I made the game.

I remember every compliment,

forget every favor owed.

You remember when you saved me?

No? Me neither. There you go.

“But I was there for you.” Congratulations.

Want a medal? “I thought you’d do the same.” Then you should’ve

thought a little better.

You gave your heart without insurance.

That’s not my responsibility.

Don’t blame me

for your stupidity.

I walk in

like I own the place.

Why? Because I probably should.

Half these people hate my guts,

the other half still wish they could.

Could what? Doesn’t matter.

Keep guessing. I like attention,

not affection. Give me mirrors,

give me praise, keep your feelings out my way.

You want loyalty? Buy a dog.

You want honesty? Wrong guy.

You want somebody who’ll stay forever?

Good luck. Don’t know why you thought I’d try.

Maybe I’m horrible.

… Okay.

And?

You want me guilty

so damn bad.

You want tears?

You want regret?

You want me staring at the ceiling thinking about the hearts I

wrecked?

Sorry.

I was thinking about myself.

Again.

Funny how that happens.

If you need a hand— not mine.

Need a shoulder— not mine.

Need somebody at three in the morning?

Not. My. Problem. You can call me cold.

You can call me fake.

You can tell everybody I’m your biggest mistake.

I’ll probably agree. Then take another sip and say:

“Damn. You finally got something right.”

Every man for himself.

I learned that young

and I learned it well.

You can love me,

you can hate me,

either way you’re thinking about me.

So I win. Every man for himself.

Me, myself, and nobody else.

If everybody’s drowning

and there’s one seat left— move.

That’s mine. Save yourself.

They think I’m heartless.

Wrong. I’ve got a heart.

I just keep it for myself.

You gave

me yours? Should’ve

read the return policy. (hahaha)