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Where do I start? Ha! I've lost my cool.
Do beg my pardon - I'm a blubbering fool.  
I'm here on behalf of the Soul Deep Express -
To interview you in the hope you'll confess.  

Oh dear - well, at least I'm not being obscure.  
Tell me the superficial, then please tell me more!  
As backstories go, you've shone from the start - 
Immediate stardom, popularity off the chart.  

Forgive my frenetic need to delve deep;  
I'm a #1 fan, and your time doesn't come cheap.  
I'll now give you the reverential hush you deserve -
Plus, I'm worried you'll play me with some psychological swerve.  

I'm the face you abhor with adorative addiction,  
Your return to the pool for contemplative confliction.  
I'm the empty space where you desire to be seen,  
The pre-fight pep talk that's unnecessarily mean.  

I'll draw you back in, show you beauty at an angle;  
My cold kisses sustain, my false love will entangle.  
I'm pure and I'm honest - I can never lie.  
I'll stand by serenely, witness you age and die.  

I'll allow you a glimpse of your very best side,  
Let you trust me, reveal all, in me confide.  
Confirm that your face is key to acceptance,  
Then whisper how conceit requires repentance.  

I'm opaque, but plausibly transparent and clear;  
All my critique comes from you - so I'm extremely sincere.  
Do I steal from your soul? That I'll always deny.  
Return to me - I'll reflect your beauty, I'll comply.  

I need what you have, and you'll give of it freely.  
Nothing sinister to fear. Just give in and feed me.

Oh mirror, I know I asked for a confession,  
But your honesty is somewhat of a transgression.  
I'm just one of many that you carefully curate;  
Your gaze gifts a mix of self-love and of self-hate.

Hidden from view, almost outside of thought -   
I'm always free to leave, but inescapably caught.  
You splice my intuition and rack me with doubt.  
I'm everything, yet nothing - no wonder I pout.  

You're a lens of disorder, like a jealousy-plagued friend,  
A promise of glory to which I never ascend.  
Yet I feel it already, a pang of regret -
You've drip-fed me obsession, but I aid and abet.  

I can wave my hand in this space in-between,  
Nothing is tying me to this need to be seen.  
I wanted your story, but you gave me mine -  
I'm ashamed that I worshipped so long at your shrine.  

My beauty, imperceptible from your singular dimension -
In truth, you've shown only condescension.  
This interview, when published, could end your reign.  
Any emotion you show - you devastatingly feign.  

But am I the one who's lost if I walk without looking back?  
Do you reflect something that without you I lack?  
The headline would read that you aren't to be trusted,  
But how can I explain it was myself whom I lusted?  

I know how I'll feel without my reflection -  
Is this story, untold, the better protection?  
Mirror, I can't abandon your lure.  
Even knowing the truth, I'm still left wanting more.  

I'll burn all my notes, destroy all that you've shared;  
I cannot spread this heartache - tell all you never cared.  
You've revealed too much; don't do that again.  
This unpleasant revelation - it causes me pain. 
 
I'll sleep on whilst you watch me, linger in your gaze.  
Not a word will be printed - I live for your praise.
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