So strange,
can think you know all about me
cause living life publicly
and never be told my real name.
and never ask what was said in shame.
and never hear what made me laugh raucously.
and never see that smile, spontaneously.
Stalking and spying
thinking about trying
then holding back and letting
only the weed and booze drive your mouth to open upon me.
Except Accept that ain’t reality
My mind is bored of made-up bullshit.
It may all be fake but at least
fool me a little so I can applaud the game.
I know I’m a curiosity.
A bauble,
intrigue,
something to distract from memes.
Gone out of your way, remind me
That kind of repetition, boring.
At least you know how to make me sleepy.
