you know me ?

who do you want me to be?

before you’ve met me you’ve decided,

you dismiss any truths I tell,

and think my judgements are misguided,

as if you know me better than I know myself.

By the time I show you what has always been inside,

you run without so much as farewell.

As if I lied,

As if I changed,

As if I am no longer me.

But maybe you decided to hide,

or maybe you wanted to cry,

or maybe you wanted him,

or her,

or them,

and maybe none of what you wanted involved me anyway.


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