Foolish

I bring myself to be infatuated by these people
who don't even know my middle name
or the stories I tell about my childhood
and only care about the band size around my chest
and the cups that go along with it.

I allow myself to be swept away
by their vague lies of love, and lust
not realizing at the other end
their thumbs are typing the same exact message
to a girl with blonder hair than me

I find myself buried deep in these lies
allowing the dirt they throw cover me up
until only my nostrils have a tiny amount of air to breathe
and I do because I believe them when they say these things
"I'll leave her"
"you're the only one for me"

because when you think about it
nothing is absolute
and I'm a definite variable in their lives
when they are my only control