Do not speak of me, about me, around me if you recognize me by my last name.
My father's heritage, the origin of my creation, holds no bearing.
I do not want to speak to those who know nothing more than my surface.
In fact, I do not wish to speak to anyone at all.
My reputation precedes me.
What have you heard? What intrigues you?
Is it my walk, how I wear my hair, how I decorate my face?
I want you, anybody, somebody, to try to go deeper. Dive into this ******* deep, freezing lake.
The edge is all frozen over and you're afraid to break through the layer of ice. Don't be.

It's a funny thing, being the girl that is only a figment, only a hazy dream.
I am not grounded in reality.
I will twist the memories, those insignificant dates, those looks you gave to me when your face hovered above my own.
I will grant them meaning, I will brush them to the wayside, to the shore, where they can be washed away and forgotten. But the tide comes in and the tide comes out, sure as night and day.
When the digital alarm clock by my bed switches its panels to 10:30 and my heart inverts, I know its time to think of you.
But is it you? Or are you nothing but a hologram blurred by the rain?
The reality is so displaced from the fantasy and where the line blurs, I don't know.

your half-smile
that slight pull at the corners of your mouth
the coiling of your lip into your cupid's bow
withdrawing from our kiss
the details of your face coming into focus as i move further away
your eyes lazily bleared, easily staring back at me.
there's a knowing nature about your expression,
that i can't play coy, can't play the game of teasing lovers
you know exactly where you stand, and i stand vulnerable.