who do you want me to be?
before you’ve met me you’ve decided,
you dismiss any truths I tell,
and think my judgements are misguided,
as if you know me better than I know myself.
By the time I show you what has always been inside,
you run without so much as farewell.
As if I lied,
As if I changed,
As if I am no longer me.
But maybe you decided to hide,
or maybe you wanted to cry,
or maybe you wanted him,
and maybe none of what you wanted involved me anyway.