Be my girlfriend, sit across the table,
Clinking glasses where the night feels stable.
Velvet shadows, your laughter spilling bright,
Pretending we’re flawless in the soft candlelight.
But—
Don’t follow me.
I don’t want you to see me
Naked and dumb,
Drop my skin, let it come undone.
Don’t follow me.
I laugh to mask the weight of my mistakes,
Burn the toast, and cry unguarded
When my silence breaks.
I’m not the picture you see tonight—
Ordinary, messy, still holding tight.
So—
Don’t follow me.
Not yet. Not inside.
I don’t want you to find me
Bare, undone,
A fragile soul beneath the shine I’ve spun.
I’m not a mystery, not a saint,
Just a fragile soul with ordinary pain.
If you peel away the shine I wear,
You’ll find someone scared you won’t want to care.
So don’t follow me—
Unless you’re ready to see me
Naked and fun,
Broken, whole—still just someone.
Don’t follow me—
Unless you can love the weight of me,
The awkward, the raw,
The beautiful flaw.
Don’t follow me—
Unless you want the truth,
And embrace the real me.