You're broken. Yes you're better but broken.
You're an arcade game. You just ate my token.
But I still try to play, just putting in more.
In last place, stumbling for your high score.
Still here for you. I can't help number one,
but for your benefit I'll still pretend to have fun.
It's selfish. "It" is me, for the thought of giving up.
Eating food flavored you, after throwing it up.
But you're escalating, slowly reaching the top.
You seem even higher as I gradually drop.
But as I cradle you I just resist the desire,
After a year I want to douse this damn fire.
It's late, and tonight I'll barely sleep.
But sincerely, thank you, for your thank you's I keep.
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