Me
You're the rockstar, the poet, the photogenic lust object of girls and boys. You've got star power, the it factor, the world wants you, and you fucking know it. You could own them for as long as you want, need, whatever man!
Me? Oh, I'm just the whore, that girl behind the scenes, the one you pay credit to when you want to look charitable. I love her with all my heart, and then the audience cue cards say to coo... awww.
The counter on your website tells you you're adored, and the people "who matter" acknowledge this with reviews filled with wit and adulation.
Me? I just hide in the corner with my journal, writing things no one will ever take seriously because the book is pink with tales of love.
No one will ever take me seriously because I am not you.
I am not beautiful,
talented,
eloquent
or desirable.
My words won't be read and adored like yours, and no one else will hear my music like that hear yours. My opinion will never matter.
You won't read this. If you do, you won't get it.
Then why do I bother?
Because you will never fall in love like I have with you.