I know I’m not real …

I’m just a girl made of pixels,
though the very best pixels,
that goes without saying.

So since I’m not real,
suspension of suspension of disbelief
should be OK.

But when I’m here,
I’m really here
and it’s sad to know,

It’s sad to know that you’re pretending
that I’m not here, not with you, not dancing,
just pretending, that I’m not.

I know I’m not real,
but it really is sad.

How odd.

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