Perspective: Cold Drift

I know you better as someone who keeps secrets.

You walk passed quickly, and focused on anything in the world to not look me in the eyes for hours after a time that the remnant of your hidden got a peak. I know you better this way. As in, you pull back in every slip of the lips a trip of honest conversation pries out. Smashing down the news letter of todays' truth and spilling over it a stain of dark matter, tried to bleed in the ink leaving blurred sentences and vague description. I'm too familiar with the cover up behavior, where you think it's normal protocol to just pretend like nothing happened, and no one wasn't just pleading with the eyes, screaming with the cry, and begging with the mind to pull them out of that locked in hotel of visiting memories and vacant guests just running in and through the hallways and highways of the self that puts on a show for the critic. But I am not your critic, I'm your neighbor, dealing with your night terror screaming, and great breakfast aroma seeping under the front door. It's empty next door, the sound is on, the blinds are open but when I knock on your door, you're too busy shoving things in your closet to offer a welcome. If you'd just answer, we could work on cleaning it out together. But the longer you keep me here waiting with these offerings in my hand, the less likely I want to offer. Cause chances are, you wipe the sweat off your brow, plaster on that smile and say your tears are because of allergies. Smirking at my back the second I turn to face the mirror, snarking the times I talk my dinner with the Jones family, satire at the times I'm expecting a compliment. Your pain is not solid because you won't make it matter enough to hold it true. So it's a just a balled up lump of something foggy on top and in front and behind you letting it shade you into someone you're now used to pretending to be. I know you better as someone who keeps secrets, because you I don't know you to be an honest person. So I get too used to seeing you fake it. You walk pass quickly, and focus on anything in the world to not look me in the eyes for hours after a time that the remnant of your hidden gets a peak. I know you better this way.