Me, Me, Me.

You wouldn't like the full me... The complete me-
The me that only looks out for me more;
The me who suffers from chronic self-importance,
Who thinks the world stops when I sleep
The skies grey when I'm sad
And the sun bursts through when I'm content.

That me is hidden within the layers of humility,
Which time and patience built onto my reluctant structure,
Making the me you see a kinder me
A more considerate, helpful, thoughtful me;
A me who sometimes wishes that nothing else mattered
But knows that an outwardly better me the world needs to see.

So for you, for all of you, I won't crack the layers.
I won't try to prove to you that when all's said and done,
The real me only wants to ignore you
And live my life how I feel, do what I want to do,
And cater solely to my needs as if nothing else mattered.
Instead, I'll allow my hypocrisy to prevail
Because in the end, ironically, hiding my hypocrisy seamlessly
Makes me... genuine.