Bookworm

I’m in a book
For you to read and then throw out
I wasn’t born
I was just dropped into your arms
Well mom I’ve been bad
And I want to come home
And you couldn’t breathe
With all those doctors at your side
But you’re talking to me
Saying I wish that I had died
'Cause I’m being prodded
Crushed in your hands
And I want to come home on the F train
And you were just a paper boat
Floating through the gutter
Lost at sea
You drift to me
And into someone’s nightmares
A home is a highway
Your pillow’s a rock
I’m in a rusted car
Bound to get lost