I don't like being vulnerable. I don't like looking young and pretty.
I don't lie, I barely smile, I never simper.
If you want something that's not cold,
Hard
Facts...
You don't come and find me.

You don't like my ice. You don't like that I never show my heart.
You don't lie, you are always smiling, and you never fail to have simpering girls
Surround you.
When you want to face reality,
You come to me.

You tell me to describe your faults
Over and over.
You say that it's for your own good, 
So you don't grow an ego bigger than your head.

I tell you of your awkward past,
And remind you of your awful singing.
Sometimes I talk, talk, talk until we fall asleep under the stars

I never lie to you and now-
Now that candor is biting my ankles,
Chewing my toes.

The reality isn't registering and the shock is showing
And you gape- like a fish,
I tell you.
You begin to say my name-
Carefully, slowly

But I shake my head and I smirk through telling tears
And a fan girl calls for you,
Flirting from far away.
I don't want you here, 
I tell you, go.

I don't want you to witness my pain,
My vulnerability.

But you shake your head like I'm a silly 
Simpering girl, 
Like I'm one of them.

You tell me that I'm not though.
You don't try to stop my tears.
You don't do anything but smile and grab my hand.
And somehow, even with ice,
It's my cup of tea.