Those three words

She told me she knew me,

Before we even met,

‘Cause her dad was the same damn way:

Too in love with tragedy to witness,

Happiness fleetingly floating by,

Brushing up against him like a cat,

Trusting you so deeply in only a shallow breath,

Before the moment disperses into the almost was,

Leaving the lingering scent of frustration.

“Could you promise me,

To give up the nightmares that plague you for,

The dream we could explore together?”



I laughed when I heard her,

Just like I do anytime anything uncomfortable catches me,

Unarmed with a witty response,

distract my assailants,

(Equipped only with the Truth),

To buy myself enough time to think of an Excuse,

A loophole in her characterization that I could,

If/When it’s needed,

Reframe my reported past self to fit,

As a way of freeing myself from the prison,

Of those three quiet words:

I know you.






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