don’t take me as i am

I live like a song made to be elevator music. Lilting and swaying with jovial rhythm; a numb flatline. A stage for small talk between strangers.

I exist like those two strangers in an elevator, each exuding a warm facade only meant to last until the end of the workday; a falsity of tolerance.

I am that falsity. I am every white lie, every pleasantry, every "let her down easy." My mind is made up of each idea I've recycled, passed off as my own. No part of me has ever been real.

So don't take me as I am. Make me better than I could ever dare to envision. Make me the saint or the demon--make me anything you want, so long as you can promise me that I won't fade away.

Don't take me as I am.