This Uncouth waits

-
I took a bath, cleaned myself,
For I was to meet you;

Dressed myself up, saw the mirror after ages,
For I was to meet you;

What did you like hearing, what did you like eating,
That was all that kept me occupied,
For I was to meet you;

And then, something struck.

It was not I that was meeting you.
It was the I, "you wanted", "made for you"... not me.

For I am an uclean, undressed, uncouth who does not require a mirror.
I talk my mind, have never bothered to touch pans.
Yet I am waiting to meet you.

Can you like the "real" me, not the one "decked for you"?