Obsessed with Glory

Hate to not be seen in lights
I strive for the attention
Face unseen
Love is the bizarre obstacle I seek
Tic toc and clickity click

Lust of my ego is a must
Squished butterflies collecting dust
Manipulation in the lane-ways to fame
In little circles, its a baby game
I desire the love I so often lack
Lying for me is easy as a new dawn
As long you all, over me
Fawn

I am guilty, I have confessed my sin
On the couch of psychiatric whim