Who am I?

I'm a joke, an

Immature amateur.

Gottverdammt it all,

You can be sure, no one's heard of me.

The real me?

Who cares, why would I bother,

how could I possibly share myself?

The true me?

Toss my body in a vat, boil it in some water,

somewhat salty.

Boil it down, down to the essence,

And you get me. A little salty.

Who me? That girl over there?

The white cheerleader with the curly hair?

Unaware that you're even staring, because

Nobody ever does?

I can tell you,

In fact I will tell you,

She won't reveal herself to you.

But, she shall reveal herself to herself.

Confused yet?

Good, that's how she wants it.

And despite what you may think,

telling me to “Eat more, put some meat on your bones!”

Doesn't help.

I eat plenty.

A real-life, bona-fide, wordsmith wannabe

Taste in music so far from the main stream

This little fishie won't say she's indie.

Ebony embedded inside ivory,

Look a little closer and you'll see it.

Or you won't

It's cool, most people don't.

They never see the soul inside,

It sometimes peeks out when her eyes smile,

But mostly it tries to hide.

Coax it out with a spoonful of peanut butter,

And you will see me.