Anna, I'm Not Interesting

Needle and ink

Draw and drink

Smile and wink

But I'm not here

Until you draw me near

Skin on skin

White linen

Sleeping in

I'll hold you close

Waking hurts the most

Anna, I'm not interesting

You've seen the bags I'm carrying

You've known my pain since you binged season four

These walls will not be softening

There will be better offerings

Why even bother knocking on my door?

You could have so much more

Little deaths

The deepest breaths

Empty bed

I lie alone

At least it's what I know

Anna, I'm not interesting

My bitterness is festering

And I know that you'll taste it if you stay

All my dreams are withering

Their absence will be crippling

Whatever flames we feel will burn away

They flicker and they fade

Anna, I'm not interesting

No, I'm not wrong about everything

But I am never right about enough

I didn't write the songs I sing

I'm up at bat, but never swing

Can't you see that you have called my bluff?

I can't ask to be loved