If you saw a picture that reminded you of me, what would it be?
Clothes I wore or the look on a face.
The back of me as you walked away?
The smile as I wake with eyes still shut.
Or your own reflection with no one to love.
What reminds you of me is just yourself.
A social butterfly that loves herself.
Woe is you and protesteth much, as he calls you fat but you both still ******.
So what reminds you of me is now all that you have.
I left your life 15.45 on Tuesday last.