I don't want be on your calendar,
To you I am just a display.
While you're going on with your life,
Mine ends almost everyday.

You don't see my body laying there,
Mascara on my face.
I hide my tears from you,
I'm an item out of place.

In the darkness I wander the halls,
Listening to the night.
I can hear you breathing,
I want to hear it stop, but only out of spite.

To you, I am used toy
Never to be fixed.
The only reason you purchased me,
Was just to get your kicks.

My paint is chipped and tainted,
No one wants me any more.
You took my fragile figure,
And turned me into a whore.