Lip Service

I hate, hate, hate the lip service. I'm so fucking over it.
All I hear, all day long is how fucking perfect I am.
"Katie, you're smart...
you're beautiful...
your personality is perfect....
you are everything I've ever dreamed about in a girl
I can't believe you exist."
Dear boy, Fuck off.
You're the 3rd one this week to say that
And the third one this week that ended up being a flake
and an asshole
you treat me like you treat every girl
and I'm not every girl.
Just like every other girl is not every girl.
I'm so fucking tired of being put in a box
I don't belong confined in any way
My expectations are so easy...
Just be yourself
enjoy my company
and I'll enjoy yours
soon I'm going to be gone
we're not having kids
just drinking beer and loving life
and doing spontaneous things
but no one wants that;
they want more or less
this is all I have to give,
and everything I want to contribute
Every time I hear nice words I cringe in fear for what's next
It's either obsession or negligence
And I hate both equally
I like rude guys because I'm a rude girl
but inside I'm still vulnerable
and I'd like to find a person walking this Earth
that sees how simple it is to please me
and wants to do so...
Because I have a whole lot to contribute
That's what I love to do