I love how crowds can say they miss the old me,
I hate how I have to wonder who could that be.
Because that was a mask,
Because that was an act,
Because that was just a daily task,
Of making out of bed and back.
You can love my role,
But don't say you love my book if you've never read it as a whole.
You can love my smile,
But I haven't had A real one in a painfully long while.
You can love my photo,
But if you can't look in my mirror then don't say you know me.
You can love the stories your told,
But unless you saw it when it was old,
But unless you saw it before I had to remold,
But unless you saw it before the lies were bold,
But unless you saw it before I decided the truth was to cold,
But unless you saw it before this fantasy life got sold,
But unless you saw it when words were real and no matter how hard they were to handle you gripped them in your hold,
But unless the reality ran with fantasy and you watched it unfold,
Then you shouldn't behold what's now fools' gold.
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I think people hate me.
