Fraud

Who am I?

Whoever you want me to be.

 

I am a mirror reflecting what you expect to see;

A vampire feeding on the emotions you display.

They pass through my factory of feelings,

Sent to the personality in need of them most;

To paint on a persona that pleases my host.

 

My deck of cards bears many suits,

That suit to fit and match your manners.

Play your cards so I can counter in kind,

But all of mine they bear the joker;

This lie feels true but this face is poker.

 

Perhaps this feeling is not so unusual;

This knowledge that you’ll never know me.

For how could any know another

Who feels a fraud to feel so false;

Inside empty, sorry for your loss.

 

I am a chameleon who hides in plain sight;

Though god forbid you see my scales

That weigh the pros of keeping you sweet

Against the cons of losing my mind;

Held hostage once I’ve been too kind.

 

The curse of caring strikes with dread

So I’ll cherish this empty gift instead.

I’ll smile and whisper words of agreement;

You can feel better, my machinations are met,

So why does it strike me with such cruel regret?

 

Regretfully wishing to feel you for real,

Instead of this wicked benevolent bluff;

Considered responses to improvised emotions;

Hollow comfort belying apathetic disdain.

It’s just hard to care, and care without shame.

 

Who am I?

Everything you want me to be.

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