i think you think
to be loved is to be known
but i think you think you know me
you know my interests
you know my embarrassing phases
but you don't know my thoughts
or my feelings or beliefs.
you know the person im okay with you knowing
not the girl, sequestered beneath
not the girl who cries almost nightly
who stays home, stays safe, stays comfortable
who sat on window ledges when she was sad
did her makeup, made herself pretty for her funeral.











